


Jack of All Trades

by CapnHanbers



Category: Undertale
Genre: Alphyne, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Pacifist Route, Slight soriel, Slow Burn, Smut, cuz it feels dishonest having them here if they haven't even made an appearance yet, i mean not heavy angst but, i'mma just add stuff and characters as they are added to the story, idk - Freeform, ok so, probably, puns, the smut has happened, uh oh, um, y'know i'm real bad at these tag doodads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 65
Words: 207,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5482427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnHanbers/pseuds/CapnHanbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now, this is a story all about how your life got flipped-turned upside down and I’d like to take a minute just sit right there I’ll tell you how you became a <b>dang ass skeleton fucker.</b></p>
<p>It’s been almost three years since monsters have integrated into society.  After a frightening experience, you start to run into the same skeleton everywhere you go, and your lonely life soon makes a one-eighty turn.  In a world where magic is real and monsters are kind, can you find a way to be part of it?  Can you let yourself fall in love again?  Can you prove to the world that Take On Me by Aha is the greatest song ever written?  Because it definitely, definitely is.</p>
<p>The Reader is female and named--less of a self-insert, more like a story in second-person.  I don't generally reply to comments cuz I like an accurate comment count.  I'll only reply if the comment is <b>extra mega sick.</b>  If you have a specific question, you can ask it on my tumblr @capnhanbers!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Haunted House

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy ya'll welcome to the trash heap.
> 
> My tumblr dedicated to this fic is @capnhanbers, but if you want to see some truly sick Soriel nonsense, my main blog is @mod2amaryllis.

You knew this was a bad idea the moment you stepped out of the car.

 

The haunted house loomed over you imposingly, the sweeping spotlights and campy decorations filling you with unease.  Your hand still grasped the door handle tightly, and you only let go after one of your friends pushed you aside as they disembarked.  Everyone else in your group was laughing, shoving one another, making jokingly scared noises as they started toward the ticket booth.  You were the only one who actually felt nervous.

 

“Hey, you alright?”

 

You turned at the voice of your date.  He was the last one out, and he was looking at you with a concerned expression that somehow managed to feel condescending.  He smirked slightly, glancing at the haunted house and saying, “You’re not actually scared, are you?”

 

_Out of my mind, yes ._ “‘Course not!” you responded, slapping on a fake grin.

 

“Oh, good,” he breathed in relief.  “I wouldn’t want you breaking down and crying once we get in there.  It’s so annoying when chicks freak out at scary stuff!”

 

He jogged ahead to catch up with the rest of the group, leaving you before he could see the flash of disdain cross your face.  You looked back at the car, briefly considering crawling into the backseat and just hope no one noticed you were gone.   _No, no, you’ll be fine,_ you assured yourself.   _Sure, your date’s a jerk and you hate haunted houses and everyone’s going to laugh at you when you pee your pants out of fear...but you’ll be fine._

 

You hurried to join your friends, wrapping your thick jacket tightly around your torso.  It was only early September and the autumn chill hadn’t had a chance to set in, but you’d never been too tolerant of any level of cold.  Plus, the jacket’s hood could act as a portable hiding place if the need arose.

 

The feeling of your date’s arm slinking around your shoulders made your skin crawl.  “So, hey, remind me of your name again?” he asked carelessly.

 

You managed to ungrit your teeth and reply, “It’s Anaya.”  You were already fed up with this guy.  Your friends had set you up with him for the night, feeling bad that you were the only one without a steady relationship, despite your constant assurance that it was fine and you didn’t mind feeling like a third wheel.  Honestly, you thought being a third wheel was a thousand times better than dealing with a blind date.

 

“Woah, weird name, is it cool if I just call you Annie?”

 

Before you could even respond, you heard a loud snarl right next to your ear that made you jump three feet in the air.  You whipped around, clutching your chest, to see that one of the masked haunted house employees had snuck up on you.  You heard your friends laughing around you and saw your date doubled over out of the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t focus too well on your surroundings.  You were shaking so much it was getting hard to breathe.

 

One of your friends turned from the ticket counter and announced, “Ok, I’ve got the passes.  Let’s get in line!”

 

The closer your group got to the entrance, the more your anxiety grew.  You tried paying attention to your date’s narcissistic conversation topics, but your eyes kept straying to the fake, eerie, borderline goofy doorway leading inside.  Your friends had never understood your fear of haunted houses, and you didn’t quite get it yourself, but all you knew was that they scared the shit out of you.  You knew it wasn’t real, you knew you weren’t actually in any danger, and despite all this you’d never been able to shake the irrational terror.

 

Finally, your group had reached the front of the line.  Your body tensed, recoiling as your friends went on ahead of you.  It was only the uncomfortably firm pull of your date’s arm around your shoulders that convinced you to step inside.

 

It was all you could do not to duck your head, close your eyes, and cover your ears against the sights and sounds of the haunt.  Your companions shrieked and giggled in delight at every over-the-top scare, but you remained silent.  Your jaw was clenched so tight, you imagined you could hear your teeth creak in protest.

 

“Pft, you ok Abby?”  You could barely register that your date had said something, but you managed to offer a short nod.  

 

Before he could say anything else, your group entered a room that was completely empty save for a single flickering light.  Upon closer inspection, you realized that there was a lone skeleton lying motionless beneath the light.  It was propped up against the wall wearing nothing but a pair of tattered jeans, with its skull lolling forward as if it was sleeping, a grin spread under its empty eye sockets.  Something about the skeleton snapped you out of the haunted house’s manufactured terror.  You felt a small flare of curiosity as one of your friends approached it.  He was laughing and commenting, “Check this thing out, looks so fake.  ‘S not even shaped like a real skeleton!”

 

Just as he reached out to poke it, the skeleton lifted its head and flashed a lazy smile, its eyes suddenly lighting up with two pupil-like dots.  It waved one bony arm and said with a deep, casual voice, “heya.”

 

Your friends immediately screamed and scurried as far away from the skeleton as possible, all rushing to get to the next room, but you found yourself frozen for a few lingering moments.  Your fear had dissipated slightly with realization.  You continued staring at the skeleton as he gave you an odd look, your mouth moving unintelligibly.

 

“uh, you’re supposed to run away, kid,” he said with an awkward chuckle, looking pointedly at the door your friends had just exited through.

 

His words broke you from your stupor, and your terror suddenly returned with a vengeance at the thought of being separated from your group.  “Oh no, crap crap crap,” you hissed.  You burst into the next room and realized with dread that it was almost impossible to see.  Loud, demonic laughter drowned out all other sounds, and a thick fog filled your lungs and vision.  You started to gasp in panic as you felt your way through, squeaking “G...guys…!”  Your throat was constricting.  You didn’t know where you were.  You couldn’t see where they’d gone.  Your breath came hard and fast as you eventually hit a wall.  You felt along it, going around a corner to a shadowy yet quieter section of the room.

 

Still unable to think straight, you crumbled there, crouching to wrap your arms around your knees and rock back and forth.  You closed your eyes, trying to take deep breaths and force down the fear.  This was it.  The absolute worst case scenario.  They’d left you behind, and now you were all alone in a haunted house.  This is why you’d always hated these things.  This is what you’d been afraid of.

 

“you lost, pal?”

 

Your head snapped up at the familiar voice.  In the shadows, you could see the skeleton staring down at you, a flashlight in one hand.  He had thrown on a thick winter coat along with the jeans, making him look markedly less spooky.  Somehow his wide grin and empty eyes managed to look concerned.

 

Still a little dopey from panic, you simply replied, “You’re a monster.”

 

He blinked in surprise, then let out a short laugh.  “uh, yeah.  isn’t that why you’re here?”

 

You must have looked confused, as the skeleton crouched down to your level and continued, “that’s kinda what this haunted house is advertising.  ‘real monsters, real scares!’  pretty sure that’s the tagline.”

 

Your head was finally starting to clear.  Your expression fell into embarrassment.  “O-oh gosh, I’m...I’m really sorry, that’s rude isn’t it?  All of us acting all scared, when really you’re just…”  Your words tapered out.  What were you trying to say?

 

Ever since monsters had emerged from the underground almost three years ago, it had been a slow adjustment.  Your town apparently hadn’t seen too many monster settlers at first, but shortly after you’d moved there it had gained a decent population of the creatures.  You’d finally started to feel accustomed to seeing them in stores, buses, schools, but you still hadn’t spent too much time talking to them one on one.  There remained an uncomfortable barrier, as if you weren’t sure how to treat them like normal people.

 

The skeleton shrugged at your awkward apology.  “eh, it’s no big deal.  it’s actually a decent job.  sit in a room, wait for a bunch of kids to walk in, give ‘em a wave.  i’m getting paid to say hi to people.”

 

You sniffed, smiling despite everything.  “Doesn’t sound so bad when you put it like that.  I still kinda feel like a jerk though…”

 

The skeleton tilted his head, then twisted so that he was sitting against the wall beside you.  He produced a tissue from his coat pocket and quietly handed it over.  You jumped at the offer, only then realizing that you’d been crying.  You muttered a thanks and wiped at your cheeks, very aware of the fact that the skeleton wasn’t taking his eye sockets off you.

 

“So...what are you doing out of your room?” you asked eventually.

 

“going on break.  sitting around all day really works me to the _bone_.”

 

You snorted at the pun, quickly covering your mouth and shooting the skeleton an embarrassed glance.  He met you with a smile, seemingly pleased that he almost managed to get a laugh out of you.  You couldn’t help but return the grin.  You suddenly realized that while he’d been talking with you, you’d almost forgotten that you were currently lost in a haunted house.  There was something in his lazy expression that put you at ease.

 

You both looked up as a group of shrieky teenagers stumble through the room.  You’d been there long enough that your eyes had completely adjusted to the darkness, and you were now clearly able to see the entrance, the exit, even the fog machines.

 

“weren’t you here with some friends or something?” the skeleton asked once the teenagers had made it through.

 

“Yeah, sort of,” you grumbled.  “I mean...well they didn’t even wait up for me, and...I honestly didn’t want to come in the first place.  I really don’t like haunted houses, I kind of...freak out.”

 

Your eyes slid over to see that he wore a sour but sympathetic expression.  “and they made you come anyway?”

 

“With a blind date and everything.”

 

“kid, i hate to break it to you, but i think your friends might be assholes.”

 

He finally drew out the laughter from you, even if it was pretty humorless.  “You’re probably right.  Do you know he’s gotten my name wrong three times?”

 

“i bet his mother was a cactus.”

 

You gave him an odd look.  “Huh?”

 

The skeleton blinked innocently.  “cuz he sounds like such a prick.”

 

That did it.  You couldn’t stop the giggles from bubbling forth, and soon you were bent over from laughter instead of fear.  You were so loud that one couple jumped in fear at the sound of you, thinking that it was part of the house’s sound effects, which earned additional chuckles from your companion.

 

“I-I’m keeping you from your break, aren’t I?” you blurted once you’d caught your breath, starting to get up.  The skeleton rose before you and offered you a bony hand.  You hesitated for a breath before taking the offer, surprised to feel that his fingers were warm and solid in yours.  Now that the two of you were on your feet, you could see that he was actually a few inches shorter than you, and the addition of the winter coat made him look pleasantly stout.

 

“don’t worry about it, kiddo,” he reassured.  “need help getting out of here?”

 

You nodded sheepishly, realizing that you hadn’t let go of his hand.  You were still shaking a bit.  You may have calmed down, but the thought of being alone once again filled you with anxiety.

 

The skeleton didn’t move to pull away from you, calmly walking toward the other side of the room and saying, “exit’s just over here.”

 

Sure enough, a door you hadn’t noticed before led directly to the outside.  A shiver went through you as you transferred from the muggy interior to the brisk September air.  You shot the skeleton a grateful look and muttered, “Thanks.  Sorry I...freaked out in there.”

 

He grinned.  “sorry if i added to the freak-out.”

 

“N-no!  You didn’t, not at all, you…”  You felt your fingers tighten around his, causing his pupils to dart down to your joined hands.  You quickly released him and stuttered, “S-sorry, sorry!”

 

“you sure do like to apologize, kid,” he laughed gently, shrugging under his heavy coat.

 

You blushed from embarrassment.  “Yeah, haha...that’s, uh, kinda my thing.”

 

“Hey, Ashley, there you are!”

 

You jumped and spun at the sudden call, seeing your group waving to you from near the house’s exit.  It was your date who had shouted impatiently.  When they noticed your companion, they seemed to recoil with a mixture of confusion and discomfort.  You groaned and gave them an “I’ll be right there” motion.

 

“Guess that’s my cue,” you muttered, feeling oddly disappointed at the thought of saying goodbye to the skeleton.

 

He raised one ridge of bone that resembled an eyebrow.  “did he get it right this time?”

 

“Nope,” you responded dryly.  You turned back to him and hugged your arms nervously, adding, “It’s, uh...it’s Anaya.  Or Naya, whichever.”

 

He beamed, the look of genuine pleasure sending a flash of warmth through your chest.  “sans.  as in sans any flesh, skin, organs, hair...y’know.  sans all that.”

 

You laughed again, but a call from your group spurned you to leave him with a regretful wave.

 

During the ride home you explained how Sans had shown you the exit after you’d gotten lost, but after laughing at you for getting separated in the first place you were largely ignored.  The only attention you had to deal with were inquiries from your date about whether or not you were free next weekend, which you unenthusiastically dodged until he eventually lost interest.

 

They dropped you off at a bus stop at your request--you really didn’t feel like being around any of them at that point.  You sat on the bench and huddled into your jacket as you waited for the late-night bus, shoving your hands in your pockets and thinking back on the day’s events.  “Sans,” you mutter to yourself.  “Kinda different name.”

 

_Just like mine._


	2. Cilantro Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapter titles are gonna be hilarious
> 
> Thanks so much for all the positive feedback, it really means so much to me! :'D This chapter includes some pretty specific descriptions of our main character--skin color, hair color--and I'm not sure how down for it people will be. As I've been writing this I've just progressively gotten a really clear image for what Naya looks like and I may or may not have sketched a couple things that I may or may not end up posting on tumblr. But ye, if ya'll don't like the descriptiveness, please let me know! I realize it's kind of unconventional for an xReader fic, and this is my first time writing one, so help me out.

You woke up the next morning feeling groggy and unmotivated.  You glanced at the clock: 7:00 AM, just an hour before you had to be at work.  With a groan you rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom, once again regretting your decision to go to a haunted house late last night.

 

After a quick shower, you glanced at your tired reflection.  The water plastered your long black hair flat against your scalp, and with the ends wet, it reached almost all the way down your back.  You stretched your arms above your head, the motion pulling your olive skin tight over your ribs.  You leaned forward and tugged a bit at the heavy bags under your eyes.  You always looked so exhausted.  “Guess that’s what three jobs does to you,” you muttered.  You tried to shake off the usual thoughts that ran through your head when you studied your appearance--nose too big, eyes too dark, lips too thin...

 

Your gaze unwillingly strayed to the pale scar just below your hairline.  You frowned at it, reaching for your cover-up and smearing it over the line to the point that it was nearly invisible.  Nodding in satisfaction, you dried your hair, threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and grabbed everything you need before leaving.

 

The stairs leading up to your fourth-floor apartment were on the outside of the building, with no elevator.  The steep metal grating always made you nervous, but you were already running late, so you sprinted down every flight taking at least two steps at a time.

 

Luckily, the job wasn’t far from where you lived.  You only had to walk a few blocks before reaching the elementary school where you worked as a daytime janitor.  You rushed in the door with barely a minute to spare, heading straight for the staffroom where you changed into the sanitation uniform--a simple army-green jumpsuit with your name embroidered on the front.

 

The day progressed normally.  It was simple, mindless work.  Clean the bathrooms, clean the gym equipment, clean the lunchroom, clean the classrooms...you were able to let yourself fall into a blank routine.  This job had always been easy if only for the fact that you weren’t required to interact with people, and on days when you were running on four hours of sleep, the lack of socializing was a godsend.

 

The only moments you didn’t mind throwing on a smile and acting cheerful was when there were kids around.  Any time they filled the halls between classes, they always acted so excited to see you, waving energetically and calling, “Hiya Miss Naya!”  Sometimes, you even liked to irritate the teachers by slipping their students candy from one of your suit’s many pockets.  It may have made you unpopular with the faculty, but you thought it was worth it just to share some small secrets with the children.

 

In all honesty, they were the only reason you’d taken this job in the first place.  Ever since you were young, you’d always felt drawn to a career in education.  Sure, that was before you realized how impossible it would be to pay your way through school without burying yourself in student loans, but a part of you could never let go of that dream.

 

Two o’clock rolled around and you headed back to the staffroom to turn things over to the afternoon janitor.  He was already pulling on his jumpsuit by the time you arrived, and his face lit up the moment you walked in.  You smiled and raised an eyebrow.  “You look excited about something.”

 

“Did you hear?!” he exclaimed, almost falling over as he hopped on one foot trying to get dressed.

 

“Uh, about what…?”

 

“They’re hiring a new teaching assistant!”

 

You blinked, not sure why the news should’ve been so monumental.  “That’s...cool?”

 

He finally zipped up his suit and scurried up to you, his hands clasped together enthusiastically.  “I heard she’s a _monster_!”

 

Your face finally brightened along with his.  Even if you’d never personally befriended a monster, you felt satisfaction any time you saw people exhibiting acceptance toward them.  “That’s actually _super_ cool.”

 

“I know right?!” he practically squealed.  He pulled out his phone and looked fondly at the lock-screen picture.  “First they started accepting monster students, now this?  My boyfriend’s gonna be so happy!”

 

He’d shown you pictures of his boyfriend many times before--he was some kind of human-mouse-rabbit hybrid, and the image on his phone was one of them hugging and throwing peace signs.  You hadn’t understood at first how your co-worker was able to so quickly accept the monsters to the point of falling in love with one, but the joy he showed whenever he talked about him was infectious.  Now all you saw when you looked at their pictures was a happy, normal couple.

 

“I can’t wait to meet her,” you say as you slip out of your uniform.  “When does she start?”

 

“Next week!  Maybe I should get her some kind of welcome present…”

 

He was still contemplating as he waved goodbye and went to work.  Your smile remained while you packed up and started heading back to your apartment.   _I wonder what she’ll look like,_ you wondered as you walked.   _Probably like some kind of animal--that seems to be the most common.  Or maybe one of the elementals?  Or maybe…_

 

_A skeleton?_

 

Your smile widened at the idea.  If she was anywhere near as funny and kind as Sans, you were sure you’d get along.

 

Your mind had been straying to the haunted house employee all day.  Was he working again tonight?  Did he live around here?  Had he given any thought to the wimpy, scrawny girl who kept him from his break?  Should you go see if he’s there later…?

 

You snapped out of your quiet musings and found yourself facing your front door, feeling suddenly embarrassed.  “You barely even talked to him,” you muttered as you went inside, kicking off your sneakers and dropping your jacket.  “Chill out.”

 

You wandered around preparing for your next job, getting annoyed at how persistently your mind wanted to focus on Sans.  Why were you thinking about him so much?  Because he was the only person there who didn’t think your fear was pointless?  Because he somehow managed to bring you down from a panic attack without knowing anything about you?  Because he was completely unlike anything you thought a monster would be…?

 

You knocked one fist against your head and firmly said, “Stop.”  This was stupid.  There was no way in hell you were going back to that haunted house, so there was no way you were seeing him again.  No point in dwelling on it.

 

When it was almost six, you walked to the nearest bus stop to go to your evening job as a waitress.  You ended up arriving a little early, but as soon as you went in your manager rushed over to you and explained, “The kitchen just ran out of cilantro, can you go next door and see if they’ll lend us some?”

 

Right next to your restaurant was another diner, separated by nothing but a narrow alley.  The two businesses often traded ingredients when the other was short.  You’d gone over there often enough that you were pretty familiar with the staff.  With a nod to your manager, you ducked right back out and headed toward the other building’s side door.

 

One of the cooks saw you walk in and immediately sighed, “Cilantro?”

 

You nodded with an apologetic shrug.  She rolled her eyes and trudged off to get what you needed, while you did your best to stand out of everyone’s way.  A few of the waiters gave you friendly smiles, and one of the hosts even asked how you were doing, but you were otherwise left alone to shuffle your feet.

 

When the cook finally returned, you smiled up at her, your eyes flicking to the swinging kitchen door as she walked through.  You froze and did a double take.  The door kept fluttering, giving you flashes of the restaurant workers bustling around, and through the crowd you could see a familiar grin.  A white skull was bent toward a sink, a pair of bony hands scrubbing dishes.  The door swung, and you saw him toss a wink to some unseen recipient.

 

“Anything else?”  The cook’s voice was impatient.  Your eyes snapped back to her, then back to the now-still door.  Your mouth gaped silently.  After a few moments, the cook rolled her eyes and shoved the bag of greens into your hands, making you jump.

 

You returned to your restaurant in a daze.  There was no way.  You’d been in that kitchen plenty of times, but this was the first time you’d noticed him.  Did he just start?  Had he been there all this time without you knowing?  Your head was swimming as you went to your first table and greeted the customers with a forced smile.

 

You were distracted throughout your shift, bouncing between deciding what to do with this new discovery and trying to convince yourself it was no big deal.  

 

When you finally had a second to go on break, you felt a nervous desire to step into the alley.   _He’s working, it’s not like he’ll be out there ,_ you told yourself, but your traitorous feet were already taking you to the side door.   _And what would you even say?  ‘Thanks for not being a total dick to me when I had a meltdown?’_

 

A few of your co-workers were out smoking, so you hung around and chatted for a bit, but your eyes kept darting toward the other restaurant’s door.   _He’s not gonna just magically appear.  I’m being ridiculous…_

 

You stayed behind for a few moments after your co-workers went back in, frowning at the door before eventually letting out a sigh and turning to follow them.

 

“heya.”

 

You almost fell flat from shock.  You spun around, clutching your chest and gasping in disbelief.

 

Sans looked like he was holding back giggles as he closed his restaurant’s door behind him.  He was wearing a standard white-shirt uniform, black pants, and an apron.  The short sleeves revealed his bony arms, and you were once again struck by how truly _skeletal_ he was.  “well isn’t _dish_ a surprise?”

 

You let out a hoarse laugh.  “H-how…?” was all you could manage to say.

 

Sans shrugged nonchalantly, and you hoped you weren’t imagining the look of friendliness in his eyes.  “i saw you picking up some ingredients, but i didn’t expect you to just _leaf_ without saying hi.”

 

Grinning at the pun, you exclaimed, “I saw you too!  S-sorry, I had to get back to work and I wasn’t sure if…” _...you’d even remember me ,_ you finished silently.

 

He let a few chuckles slip out.  “more apologies?  jeez lady, this isn’t a confessional.”

 

You could do nothing but stare at him in shock for a few moments, until you cracked up at the sheer improbability of the whole thing.  “Ha, I just...wow, I didn’t ever think I’d see you again,” you confessed.  “Thanks again for last night.  You were a lifesaver.”

 

“don’t sweat it.”  He flashed you a lazy grin, then scratched the back of his skull nonchalantly and asked, “did you uh...get anywhere with mr. prick?”

 

“Are you kidding?” you snorted.  “Now _I’m_ the one who can’t remember his name, that’s how little of an impression he left.”

 

“little,” Sans pondered.  “sounds likely.”

 

You laughed earnestly.  Sans looked entirely pleased with himself as he watched you wipe the tears from your eyes, commenting, “every time we talk, you’re such a great audience.  thanks for that.”

 

Your face flushed a bit at the compliment.  You were about to reply when one of your co-workers stuck their head out the door and called, “You coming?”  They looked startled to see that you were accompanied by a skeleton, giving Sans an uncomfortable look before slamming the door shut.

 

The mood dampened a bit.  It seemed like your conversations with Sans would always end with something reminding you of what made him different, what made it odd for the two of you to be getting along.  You bashfully turned back to Sans and mumbled, “Ah, sorry, I should probably...”

 

“stop keeping me from my break?”

 

You looked up at him with a frown, but your smile returned when you saw the teasing glint in the skeleton’s eye sockets.  “Y-yeah, ha.  Um...so when do you get off?”  You were shocked at your own boldness.  What were you doing asking personal questions?  This was just your second conversation!

 

He answered immediately.  “nine.”

 

You deflated in disappointment.  This was an hour before the end of your shift.  “O-oh, ok.  Ah...well it was cool to see you again,” you said haltingly.  Blushing and cursing your awkwardness, you ducked and hurried toward the door.

 

“see you later, naya-gator.”

 

You felt an odd thrill at the sound of Sans’ voice saying your name.  Without thinking, you gave a small wave and replied, “Peace out bean sprout.”  You froze.  Mortified, you spun around and reiterated, “I-I mean Sans!  Bye Sans!  I’m not saying...y-you’re short, or anything, I meant...I didn’t…”

 

His face was frozen in a huge, disbelieving grin.  As you turned and practically fled back to your restaurant, his laughter bubbled forth and chased you through the door.  You shut the door behind you and fell back against it, giving yourself a few breaths to appreciate the sound of that laugh.  You were immediately grateful that none of your co-workers were around to see how flushed and cheerful you were.

 

How was he doing this to you?  He was a monster--a _weird_ monster, a straight up skeleton--yet his unusual appearance didn’t even come into consideration when the two of you were face to face.  He was just as hilarious and friendly and easy and comfortable as the night before.  And he just _happened_ to work right next door.

 

You were in a bright mood for the rest of your shift.  You forgot your lack of energy, lack of confidence, or lack of good company.  You’d met someone who finally seemed to treat you like you imaged a good friend should.  Who cared if he was a monster?  Who cared if you’d only ever seen each other for a few minutes at a time?

  
He laughed at your pathetic jokes.  You guffawed at his stupid ones.  What more could you ask for in a friendship?


	3. Friggin Pathetic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golly gee thanks again for all the support! Every comment/kudos/bookmark makes my day, thank you so so much! Also if anybody ever wants to ask about the fic or anything, my main tumblr is @mod2amaryllis, but I started a separate blog (@capnhanbers) where I'll post art for this fic specifically. 
> 
> Here's the first drawing from me: Anaya ref - http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/136439613489/heres-anaya-from-jack-of-all-trades-in-a-couple
> 
> For real though, please don't ever take my chapter titles seriously.

The following day, you were thoroughly distracted from your work at the elementary school as you thought about whether or not you’d see Sans again.  You tackled your custodial tasks with renewed vigor, praying that you could somehow make the time go by faster.

 

It seemed like ages before it was finally time for you to clock out.  You rushed through a friendly exchange with your co-worker as he took over your shift, practically jogged home in your haste, and spent the break between jobs getting way too excited for something that shouldn’t have felt like such a big deal.

 

 _Seriously.  Why._  Your thoughts were accusatory, yet undeniably buzzed with anticipation.  You forced yourself to stop and take a breath.  “It’s depressing that you’re this hyped up just because you made a friend,” you muttered to yourself.   _Not even a friend yet--more like an acquaintance._

 

You supposed it wasn’t all that weird for you to be pumped about Sans.  For years you’d been hopping from town to town, job to job, flat to flat, without making any lasting friendships along the way.  The group you’d gone to the haunted house with could hardly be called _friends_ \--most of them were people you’d met through work, and your closeness barely went deeper than occasionally asking what kind of music they were into.  No, you’d always been too busy, too reclusive, and too tired to maintain relationships.

 

But Sans felt different.  Sans made you laugh without knowing you, without even being human.  He was casual, non-judgemental, and, unless you were projecting, he didn’t seem opposed to becoming friends.

 

So why not get excited?

 

On your way to work, you wore a fixed smile.  It probably would take a couple hours until you could see him, and you’d only be together for five minutes tops, but that small amount of time was still something to look forward to.

 

You worked cheerfully, surprising your fellow waiters and manager with an unusual display of energy.  You resisted glancing at the clock--watching the minutes tick by always seemed to make time go slower.

 

Once it was finally time for your break, you all but sprinted to the side-door, only stopping to glance at your reflection in the window.  You were flushed from work and your hair was frizzing out of its ponytail, but you actually looked less tired than usual.  You nodded with satisfaction and headed into the alleyway.

 

Sans wasn’t waiting for you, which was to be expected.  You bounced and wrung your hands impatiently, watching his door, chewing your lip.  One minute passed.  Two.  Five.  You started to feel worried, knowing you’d have to get back to work before too long.  A few of your co-workers trickled out to smoke.  You frowned--so much for privacy.

 

You only had minutes left.  You’d built up the thought of talking to him so much throughout the day that the thought of being left with nothing was demoralizing.  Glancing at your phone, then your co-workers, then your restaurant’s door and then finally his door, you gritted your jaw and headed toward the other building’s entrance.  Maybe you could catch him, just for a moment…

 

You lost what little confidence you had as soon as you stepped into the restaurant.  The same cook from yesterday spotted you and turned to you with an expectant frown, saying, “Seriously?  Again?”

 

You shrank a bit.  “N-no, sorry, I...I was just on break, and I was looking for, uh, one of your staff?”

 

She raised an eyebrow, looking like she was losing patience by the second.  You hurriedly continued, “Uh, S-Sans!  The...the skeleton guy?  He was supposed to meet me today, but--”

 

“Oh, Sans?  He’s off tonight.  Said he had to help a friend move or something,” the cook explained briskly.

 

It felt like your entire body deflated, and by the awkward expression on the cook’s face, it must have looked like it too.  “Oh...okay, well, sorry again,” you mumbled.  You ducked your head and rushed back to your restaurant, your cheeks burning and your posture defeated.

 

You were listless for the rest of your shift.  Silently, you tried to talk yourself out of your slump, but an entire day’s worth of anticipation with no payoff had left you both mentally and physically spent.

 

After you closed up and went home, you continued feeling like a moron.  Once inside you tossed aside your shoes, bag and jacket and flopped face-down on your couch, groaning miserably into the cushions.  Of course he’d have days off.  Of course he wasn’t always going to magically appear when you least expected.  You did this to yourself, putting too much stock into the thought of seeing him.

 

You trudged around your apartment performing your typical lonely routine.  You had a sad dinner of dry cereal.  You dicked around online for an hour.  You watched trashy reality shows until you were too tired to keep your eyes open.  Finally, you let out a sigh and started getting ready for bed, thankful at least that you wouldn’t have to get up early the next morning.

 

You brushed your teeth while studying your underwhelming reflection.  Yup, you looked like an empty balloon.  All the muscles in your face drooped from lack of sleep, or maybe lack of motivation.  Your hair was bent and frizzy after being pulled back all day.  You just appeared...sapped.

 

As usual, it took you a while to actually drift off, despite your exhaustion.  Your mind wouldn’t stop reprimanding you for letting Sans affect you so drastically.  You were still feeling unhappy about everything by the time sleep finally claimed you.

 

The next morning, some of the sting of disappointment had worn off, but you still didn’t feel like doing anything productive.  But it was Friday.  Friday was payday, or in other words, errands day.  You checked your slightly-fuller bank account on your phone and felt your spirits lift a bit.  Nothing like some extra cash to make you feel like maybe your busy, friendless life wasn’t a total waste.

 

One of your favorite things about living in a city was the closeness of all the essentials.  You only had to walk a block to reach a supermarket, and a block in the other direction led you to a laundromat.  What more did you need in a neighborhood?

 

You spent the morning and early afternoon going back and forth along the street; picking up groceries, dropping off groceries; doing laundry, lugging laundry home; and tidying up your apartment in between trips.

 

The busy work managed to pull you out of your bad mood.  Once everything was finished, you were left with a feeling of satisfaction as you looked around at your now-clean house.  “Great,” you said to no one.  “Back to crippling loneliness.”  You laughed at yourself a bit, wishing the statement was 100% a joke.

 

Once again, you were left to do nothing.  You got bored playing video games, you got bored reading, you got bored trying unsuccessfully to bake cookies.  You spent the last couple hours before work eating raw cookie dough and falling into a spiral of Buzzfeed videos.  When you looked at the clock and saw that it was finally time to get ready, you actually perked up.  Your weekend job had always been your favorite.

 

It was another waitress gig at another establishment.  Instead of the crisp white-shirt-black-pants uniform you wore to the other restaurant, you put on jeans and a graphic tee, leaving your hair down and slightly wild.  You glanced in a mirror on your way out.   _Not terrible_.  At the very least, you looked more like yourself.

 

You took a bus to a seedier part of town.  Neon signs flashed in the windows of smoke and pawn shops, and dark alleyways housed suspicious-looking tenants.  Your stop left you at a run-down convenience store--a wizened man swept outside a set of steps leading to the store’s basement, marked by nothing but a worn sign depicting a hyena.  The man fixed you with a squint as you approached.

 

“Hey, Frank,” you greeted with a familiar smile.

 

His previously unfriendly face broke into a grin, revealing his lack of teeth.  “Howdy Naya.  You workin’ late?”

 

“Yup.  You’ll keep an eye out for me, right?”

 

“Always do.”

 

You and Frank laughed good-naturedly, then you hopped down the steps and entered your workplace.

 

The basement was dim in a warm, cozy way, filled with dozens of close-knit tables and booths.  It was already pretty busy, with your co-workers bustling from table to table, taking orders and chatting with customers.  At the back of the dining hall was a stage decorated with nothing but a brick wall, a lone microphone, and a plain banner that read “Dabu Comedy Club.”  It was empty, but every chair was turned toward it and every customer kept glancing over expectantly.  You checked your watch: 8:00 on the dot.  The evening acts would start soon.

 

As always, you were met at the entrance by the club’s bouncer.  The large man nodded down at you and rumbled, “Evening, Anaya.”

 

“Hey hey.  Any new talents scheduled for tonight?”

 

“A couple.  One of them should be pretty interesting, but no spoilers,” he chuckled, placing a finger over his lips.

 

You grinned, already looking forward to it.

 

You were cheerful, animated, and even a bit snarky as you began serving customers.  The acts started soon after, opening with a few club regulars.  These were all routines you’d seen before.  You laughed encouragingly at the comics you liked and rolled your eyes and the ones you didn’t.  You hissed and winced sympathetically when a comic couldn’t land a joke, sometimes even muttering to the other waiters, “Weird, that one got a _huge_ laugh last week.”

 

The casual, funny atmosphere was why you’d always loved this job.  Of all the places you’d worked since moving to this town, this was the one that had earned your loyalty.  The staff was easy to get along with, the customers were usually friendly, and you got to watch the acts for free.  You felt so relaxed that you’d even managed to forget about Sans for a couple of hours.

 

You were serving up some drinks when the MC took the stage and said, “Alrighty folks, our next performer is new in town, so let’s all give him a warm welcome!”

 

You headed back to the bar to set down your tray as the room applauded, not noticing the scattered gasps and murmurs of surprise.  Your coworker stopped you with a hand on your arm.  Their eyes were trained on the stage as they hissed, “Dude, check out this...weirdo.”

 

Frowning in confusion, you turned to see what everyone was getting so worked up over.

 

Your jaw fell to the floor, as did your tray.

 

Sans was grinning out at the hushed crowd, his hands shoved into his pockets and his feet tapping in a pair of pink fuzzy slippers.  His pupils slid back and forth for a moment, one brow raising as he began, “huh.  this joint’s underground, right?  basement and all that?”  He shrugged nonchalantly.  “thought that’d mean you folks would be used to seeing people like me.”

 

The crowd relaxed a bit, a few people even allowing a chuckle or two to slip out.  He went on, “yeah.  basements are weird.  back where i come from, we didn’t have the luxury.  you know how it is.  you start to dig out that beautiful cellar you’ve always wanted and _boom._ magma flood.”

 

That earned even more relieved laughs.  It seemed everyone was getting over the initial shock of seeing a walking talking skeleton on stage, with one exception.  One pair of eyes still wide in disbelief, one pair of feet wandering along the room’s edges to get a closer look.

 

Something about his carefree delivery was charming the room.  More giggles started ringing out, and as his routine rolled on, those giggles bloomed into full-fledged laughter.  He managed to take otherwise mundane stories and weave humor through them with seemingly no effort.  He relied not on crass or rude punchlines, but clean, clever wordplay.  The more the audience guffawed, the more momentum he gained.  It wasn’t as if he had started with low confidence--no, he was at ease at every point of the show--but each joke had a natural build that showed his expertise.  With every casual shrug and round of wild laughter, two things became clear.

 

This wasn’t his first rodeo.

 

And you were in absolute awe.

 

You were only able to tear your eyes away only when one of your co-workers tapped your shoulder and reminded you that you had tables to serve.  For the rest of Sans’ set you absentmindedly did your job, watching him as much as possible.  You were laughing along with everyone else.  You almost dropped a few drinks as you bent double with mirth.  Your mind was swapping from being unable to believe that of all the clubs in the city, the skeleton had shown up at yours, and thinking that of course, _of course_ he was here.

 

Sans’ act lasted nearly an hour, but to you it felt like minutes.  Urgency filled you as he took his final bow.  You hurriedly set down a round of drinks as the crowd applauded; he went down the stage’s steps and disappeared backstage just as you finished up with your customers.  You nearly dropped your tray again hurrying through the tables toward him, dodging other waiters and patrons in your rush.

 

You burst through the curtain leading backstage and paused in confusion.  There was no one there.  But you had just seen him step back here.  Did he really leave that fast…?

 

“how’d I do?”

 

_Of course._

 

You spun to look at him, your expression something between numbness and wonder.  He wore an unphased smile as he pushed past the curtain, standing before you with his hands in his pockets.

 

“How did you even know I was here?”  You’d looked out from that stage before--the spotlights made it impossible to see in the dark basement.

 

He seemed to read your mind.  He tapped next to one of his eye sockets and said, “monsters have pretty good night vision.  guess that’s what happens when you’re stuck underground for a thousand years.”

 

You stared at each other in silence for a breath.  Two breaths.  Then you both erupted in a fit of giggles, shaking your heads and clutching your sides and grinning in disbelief.

 

“Are you _kidding_ me right now?” you managed to wheeze.  “ _Again_?”

 

He raised his hands defensively.  “you think i’m doing this on purpose?”

 

“It can’t be a coincidence, there’s just no way.”

 

“well you’ve already called me a bean sprout,” he smirked.  “are you gonna upgrade me to _bean stalk-er_?”

 

The laughter started anew.  You gave yourself a few moments to catch your breath before responding, “How do you _do_ that?”

 

“what?”

 

“Come up with jokes like that.  How are they this funny?  They _shouldn’t_ be this funny!”

 

He smiled smugly.  “so you _did_ like it.”

 

“It was amazing.  Like...I’ve worked here for months, and I can’t even attempt to do what you guys do but what _you_ did was…”  You shook your head and made a “mind-blown” motion.

 

Sans looked odd for a moment.  He scratched the back of his skull and averted his eyes, and for just an instant you thought you could see a strange glow on his cheekbones, but it was gone in a blink.  

 

“heh...well.  i always have a pretty great audience.”

 

It was your turn to look odd.

 

Luckily he didn’t seem to notice your face flush, as he peeked out to the diners and asked, “so, you still on the clock?”

 

“Oh, y-yeah I am, crap.”  You looked out to see several thirsty guests.  You pouted.  Even though it was proving impossible to avoid Sans in your day-to-day life, it seemed as if you were fated to only ever interact in ten minute intervals.  “I’d better get back to work.”  You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.  “Are you, uh...heading out then?”

 

“yeah.  gotta get home and feed my cat.”

 

You couldn’t tell if he was joking, but you sighed, “Right.  Ok.  Then I guess I’ll just--”

 

“you working tomorrow?”

 

The question caught you off guard.  You blinked and tried not to look too hopeful when you replied, “Y-yeah!  Yeah, I work until two, same as tonight.”

 

“cool.  maybe i’ll see you then.”  He started walking past you, then turned, gave a casual salute and said, “bye-bye, nye-nye.”

 

The burning in your face was immediate.  Words tumbled out of your mouth without your permission as you awkwardly came back with, “U-uh, farewell, silly skel...eton?”

  
He gave a more genuine guffaw than any you’d ever heard from him.  You beamed and felt warmth spread through your chest at the sound.  You were starting to think that there was no better feeling in the world than when Sans laughed at your jokes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's not obvious I'm 110% incapable of writing stand-up so I'm hella sorry, like wow. Also I promise there will be longer interactions in the future, I swear, stay with me plz.


	4. OH, you meant...o-oh

You were careful this time.  You didn’t get your hopes up, you didn’t let yourself give him any more than a passing thought as you went about your Saturday, you weren’t about to have a repeat of the last time you were disappointed.   _He said ‘maybe,’_ you kept firmly telling yourself.   _Not ‘definitely.’  Don’t count your chickens, Naya._

 

But once the day was gone and it was time to go to work, you unconsciously put extra care into getting ready.  You fussed with your hair, you brushed your teeth twice, and you even bothered to put on a touch of make-up.  As you looked at the end result in the mirror, you knotted your brow and mumbled, “Chickens, Naya.  Don’t count ‘em.  Don’t do it.”

 

You tapped your foot impatiently on the bus.  You kept your ritualistic exchanges with Frank and the bouncer brief.  You threw your bag and jacket in the breakroom, you hurriedly slapped on an apron, and finally you were ready to see some patrons.

 

It was much busier than the night before, and the show hadn’t even started yet.  You rushed from table to table like a chicken with no head.  You were juggling so many orders that you didn’t even have a moment to enjoy the acts once they began.  Every time you stopped to catch your breath, you’d look up at the stage in the hopes of seeing that too-wide grin, but it was never him.

 

Hours passed and you started to accept that he wouldn’t be performing.  That was fine.  You had so much work to do, you probably wouldn’t have been able to talk for more than a minute.  You’d have to be satisfied with last night’s exchange for the time being.

 

You smiled as you remembered it.  The way he treated comedy like a craft.  The way he snuck up on you again.  The way he called you “Nye-Nye.”

 

The shows ended and the customers finally started to dwindle.  The bar had become busier than the floor, and for the last hour of your shift you helped the bartenders keep up with demand.  You darted back and forth, wiping stools and glasses and calling out orders.  Despite yourself, you couldn’t stop glancing at the door, wondering if he’d still drop by before the end of the your shift.  It would be a few days before you had the chance to see him again, and even though you were willing to be patient, it would be nice to hear him say your name again.

 

You twitched as the thought crossed your mind, shaking your head to banish it.   _That’s creepy.  Don’t be creepy._

 

Finally the club was left with just a handful of stragglers, so your manager sent you home for the night.  You yawned as you zipped up your jacket and headed for the door, bracing yourself for the chilly night air.  It had been a long, busy shift, and you were already looking forward to sleep.

 

The convenience store was still open, as usual.  You climbed the stairs and waved at Frank through the window before turning to wait at the bus stop.

 

Sans was standing there with his bony hand raised in a greeting.

 

You jumped in shock, tiredness forgotten.  “S-Sans!”

 

“naya.”

 

“What...what are you doing here?”   _And how are you still managing to sneak up on me?_

 

He paused in confusion.  “uh...you said you get off at two?”  He glanced pointedly at a clock in the convenience shop’s window.  “it’s two.”

 

You blinked.  You didn’t get it.  “Wait.  When you said you’d see me, you meant…”

 

He watched you awkwardly as the gears turned in your head.  You told him when you got off.  He said he’d see you.  You’d assumed he was saying he’d catch you after another performance.  You never imagined he meant…

 

You slapped your hands to your head.  “Oh.   _Oh._  You want...to hang out.”

 

“yeah.”

 

“At two in the morning?”

 

“uh, yeah?”

 

“W-wait, do monsters just not sleep, or…?”

 

Sans seemed increasingly amused by your confusion.  “pft, what are you talking about?”

 

“I mean, it’s just kind of late, so…”  You tapered off, then frowned defensively when it looked like he was going to start laughing at you.  “I don’t know!  I heard you guys could, like, use magic, so I thought maybe that’d mean that...that, uh…”  Your hands looked like they were physically trying to grasp what you were getting at.

 

He couldn’t stop himself from cracking up.  You were left pouting and shrugging as he clutched his sides from laughter.  “...Look I’m tired ok.”

 

Before he could respond, the convenience store’s door suddenly opened.  Frank scowled out at the two of you.  He squinted suspiciously at Sans, then gave you a nod and asked, “This guy botherin’ you, Naya?”

 

You instinctively put a hand on Sans’ shoulder, your other hand offering Frank a reassuring wave.  “Not at all!  This is my friend, Sans.  He’s actually a performer downstairs.”  

 

As you glanced back at the skeleton, you caught his eyes flicking up from the hand resting on his shoulder.  “sup.”

 

Frank still looked cranky.  He glanced up and down the street, then held the door open and grumbled, “Well...if you and yer friend are waitin’ fer the bus, get in here.  Lotsa creeps comin’ out this time a night.”

 

You gave Sans a questioning look, shrugged, and led him into the tiny shop.  As you passed him the shopkeeper added, “And get yerself somethin’ hot to drink.  Both a ya.”

 

“Aw, thanks Frank.”  You gave his arm an appreciative pat.  Frank had known you ever since you started working at the club, and in spite of his prickly exterior, he’d always looked out for you and your fellow employees.  The staff endearingly referred to him as the club’s guard dog.

 

Frank didn’t offer anything more than a scowl before ducking into the back room.

 

The skeleton jerked a thumb in his direction and said, “he’s adorable.”

 

“He’s always been protective,” you laughed.  “Coffee?”

 

You walked over to the espresso machine and started helping yourself, with Sans following close behind.  You grabbed a cup for yourself and reached for a second one, asking, “How do you take yours?”   _Can he even drink?_ You didn’t have the nerve to ask out loud, not after you’d already shown just how ignorant you were.

 

“i got it.”  He reached around you and took a cup out from under your hand.  The close quarters made it so he couldn’t avoid pressing against your back for a moment.  

 

Your heart gave an involuntary thump.  He felt much softer and more solid than you would have thought, considering he was a literal skeleton, and somehow you could feel a gentle rush of breath by your ear.  How was that possible?

 

You pulled away to let him get his drink and gave him an apologetic smile, while inside you were experiencing a sudden realization.  This was the first time you and Sans had ever been really alone.  You weren’t working, you weren’t cowering in a haunted house, you were just...with him.  You’d thought about this since meeting him, you’d wanted it, but now that you were watching him casually pouring sugar pack after sugar pack into his coffee, you were nervous.

 

Just as you were about to say something to fill the silence, Sans commented, “to answer your question:  yes, monsters sleep.”  His smile was sly as he glanced up at you.

 

“Ah...right.  That was pretty dumb.”  You unconsciously ducked your head so that your hair fell over half of your face--a shy reaction you’d always had--but the teasing managed to put you more at ease.  “Maybe it’s hard to believe, but I actually don’t know too much about...you guys.”

 

His smile wasn’t as wide as usual.  “not a lot of people do.  don’t worry about it.”

 

You felt a slight wash of shame.  Even after nearly three years, humans didn’t seem to put much effort into understanding the people from the underground, and you were just as guilty as anyone else.  “To tell you the truth...you’re probably the first monster I’ve had a real conversation with.”

 

“hope i’ve left a good impression.”  He winked at you as he took a swig of his still-steaming drink.

 

“You’ve left an awesome impression.”  Once again, your mouth didn’t share your mind’s caution.  You spun away from him and took a hasty sip of your coffee to hid your blush, completely scalding your tongue in the process.

 

Sans snorted as you coughed and almost spat out the piping liquid.  “woah, kid, don’t get all _hot_ and bothered on me.”

 

You laughed, which resulted in more sputtering, which resulted in Sans cracking up further.  You grinned up at him without caring that your chin was dripping with spilled coffee.  This was why you were taken by Sans so quickly, why you looked forward to seeing him regardless of how little you knew about him.  The laughter just came so easily when you were together.

 

His eyes suddenly flicked up to the window.  “uh oh.”

 

“What?”

 

“how many buses come by this time of night?”

 

“Just one…?”

 

“welp, i got some bad news for you.”  He nodded pointedly outside.

 

You turned and gasped to see your bus already pulling away from the stop.  Panicked, you rushed out the door and tried to get it to stop for you, flapping your arms desperately and chasing it to the next street corner to no avail.  You slumped in defeat as you watched the tail-lights fade into the distance.  After a few moments, you heard an audible sip behind you.  “yikes.  looks like your plans for getting home are _bus_ -ted.”

 

“Not helpful,” you griped, but a smile still threatened to break through at Sans’ pun.  You sighed and turned back to him.  Despite his jokes, he looked sympathetic.  You tugged your jacket tighter around you and said, “It’s fine, I can probably just call a cab.  I’ll wait for it at the shop.”

 

Sans hummed, taking another sip.  He almost seemed to be avoiding your eyes as he asked, “how far do you live?”

 

“Bus takes about ten minutes, but it’s at least forty five minutes on foot.”  In the dark.  In a big city.  As a girl who hadn’t thought to pack her pepper spray that day.

 

“be a shame to let our first hang-out end on such a _hang-up_.”  He finished his drink, tossed it in a nearby trashcan, and shoved his hands in his pockets.  His bright pupils finally lifted to meet yours, paired with a grin.  “how bout i walk you home?”

 

Another thump.  You were frozen for a few breaths, looking at him blankly.  When you didn’t respond right away, he seemed to backpedal.  “i mean, uh, you’re probably tired, you’d rather get a ride.  that’s cool.”  

 

The sudden chink in his usually carefree exterior surprised you.  You blinked and managed to collect your thoughts enough to squeak, “No, no!  I-I’d like that!  I mean, not the cab, _walking ._ We can walk, y-yeah.”

 

His easy smile returned, along with a brief flash of the glow from before.  Were you imagining it?  “alrighty then.  lead the way.”

 

As the two of you went, you didn’t notice the grimy city or the increasing chill.  You were awake and relaxed, laughing at his jokes and chatting casually about work.  You even ventured to tell him a little bit about your personal life.

 

“Well I’m a total loser when you get down to it.”

 

Sans snorted loudly.  “oh yeah?”

 

“ _Oh_ yeah.  I’ve lived here for, like, _a year,_ and never really gone anywhere fun.  I usually have three jobs at a time and…”  You glanced over at him and raised one brow.  “You know how that is, right?  You have a lot of jobs.  Doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time.”

 

He made an affirming noise and said, “you just gotta find time for breaks.  that’s what i do.”  He suddenly stopped and smirked at something above your head.  “speaking of breaks.”

 

You looked up.  You’d ended up outside an ironically-named pub:  “The Break-Up Clinic.”  You giggled as Sans flashed you a proud grin.

 

“Nope, no, you don’t get credit for that joke.  That honor goes to the universe,” you snickered.

 

“harsh.  c’mon, gimme a _break ,_ lady.”

 

“Now you’re pushing it.”

 

Sans seemed to consider that for a moment.  With a wink he opened the pub door and made an “after-you” gesture, saying, “can i make it up to you?”

 

It was already almost three in the morning, but you felt surprisingly game.  You passed him and fanned your face jokingly, trilling, “My, what a gentleman.”  You always felt sillier late at night, and the funny atmosphere you felt around Sans wasn’t helping.

 

You both went to the bar, and he pulled out your stool with a flourish.  You took your seat graciously.  Once you were both looking at a menu he asked, “what’s your poison?”

 

“Oh I don’t really drink.  I’m probably just gonna get water.  But you get what you want, it’s on me.”

 

“i don’t drink either.”

 

You stared at each other for a moment before bursting into another fit of giggles.  You shoved him lightly and said, “Then why’d we even come in here?”

 

“pretty sure i was just letting the universe’s joke carry me away,” he chuckled.  Without paying attention, he reached for a bottle of ketchup and pulled it toward him.

 

You snorted.  “What’re you doing with--”  You were cut off when he uncapped the bottle and took a huge swig, downing a third of it in one gulp.  “Dude, _what ._ ”

 

Sans raised one brow questioningly, then seemed to realize what he was doing and lowered the ketchup.  “whoops.  sorry.  forgot you humans are weird about that.”

 

“No, that’s not...I mean, it is weird, but…”  You tugged your hair and laughed in embarrassment.  “Sorry.  It’s just funny.  I actually...ok, my thing’s not ketchup, but…”  Blushing, you hid your face and confessed, “I totally drink pickle juice when no one’s looking.”

 

His grin stretched in pure delight.  “seriously?”

 

“Every since I was a baby, yeah.  I used to beg my parents to put it in those sippy cups for me.”

 

“naya, relish is _delicious_.”  You looked at him with a self-conscious smile.  He winked and continued, “you’re the first human i’ve met with such excellent taste.”

 

You were starting to worry the heat in your cheeks might be permanent.

 

You continued to talk and laugh until the bartender asked you to buy something or leave.  Even though neither of you had a drop of alcohol, you both stumbled from the pub like a pair of giggly drunks, exchanging stupid jokes all the way to your apartment.

 

At the bottom of the stairs you sighed, “This is me.”  You couldn’t help but slump in disappointment.  You couldn’t remember the last time you’d enjoyed someone’s company so much.  You didn’t want the night to end.  You smiled at him and said, “Thanks again for walking me home.”

 

“no prob, bob.”  He scratched his neck and glanced around quietly, as if unsure how to end things.  “guess i’ll see you next week sometime?”

 

“Definitely.”  You were just as uncertain as he looked.  There was a beat of silence as you scuffed your shoes a bit, then you stuttered, “U-um, can I call you a cab, or do you live around here, or…?”

 

He jerked his head back the way you came.  “we passed my place a while back, but i’ll make it alright.”  His eyes seemed to take on an added glow as he grinned strangely.  “i know a few shortcuts.”

 

There was that annoying thump again.  You realized there was a word for him.  Along with thinking of him as hilarious, kind, and casual, your mind had branded Sans... _charming ._  There could be no other explanation for the strange mixture of intrigue and nervousness you felt when he smiled at you like that.  

 

You swallowed, meeting his eyes and saying, “Well...goodnight, um…”  Your face fell apologetically.  “I got nothing.  I’m not as good at this as you are.”

 

He laughed--it was a different laugh than what you were used to.  Quieter.  His face shone a soft blue once more, long enough that you were sure you weren’t mistaken, as he replied, “goodnight, anaya.”

 

You climbed the stairs to your apartment, went through the door, and froze.  You had a hand over your heart.  You fell against the wall and felt all the tiredness and disbelief hit you at once.  

  
“Shit…” you groaned to yourself.  How were you still blushing?  Weren’t there other parts of your body that could use the blood?  “This could be a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a few days off work so I managed to pump out an extra chapter! Yaaay! As always, thanks for all the support, I'm super stoked to keep sharing this silly lil story with you guys. <3
> 
> So Anaya's not a self-insert, but a lot of her character is based on me since that's one of the easiest ways to help me make her feel believable. A lot of little details are things from my personal life. The pickle juice thing is totally me when I was younger.


	5. Your Gross Apartment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh I really can't express how much all the comments and kudos mean to me without squealing so EEEEE THANKS WOW
> 
> So I've made a few edits throughout, and the only thing they've changed is the time frame (so don't go re-reading or anything, it's not worth it). Now it's been almost three years since the barrier broke, and Naya has only lived in her current apartment for about a year.

Something heavy pushed your back flat against the bed.  An unwelcome pressure.  Thousands of hands grabbing your sides, arms, legs, hair.  No, not hands.   _Claws_.  Digging into your skin, slicing your flesh, stripping it all away and making your feel so impossibly small.  Helpless.

 

You tried to scream, but the claws tore off your cheeks and tongue until there was nothing but teeth.  You were confused.  You were afraid.  You were in pain.  You were naked.

 

You’d been betrayed.

 

You kicked the sheets off your bed, gasping as if they’d suffocated you.  Your eyes searched your bedroom fearfully before reality washed through you. Boxes that were yet to be unpacked, bare walls, a heap of clothes in the corner, and a digital clock that read 5:33 AM. You blinked at it a few times, clutching a fistful of hair as your mind urgently reasoned, _It’s Monday. Work’s at eight. Year’s 202X. You’re alone. Alone. A nightmare, it was just a nightmare…_

You dug your nails into your scalp, as if the pain would reassure you. You blinked again. 5:34 AM. Finally, you let out a shaky sigh and let your head sink back into the pillow. “Been awhile,” you muttered to the empty room. You couldn’t remember having the dream since moving here, so it had to have been several months. “New record.”

 

You were so tired that you could feel your eyelids instantly start to close again, but you refused to fall back asleep. You knew how this worked. Shut your eyes and _bam,_ you’re back in the dream. Instead, you forced yourself to sit up. _Great. What am I supposed to do for the next two hours._

 

First things first. You rose and shambled into the bathroom to take a too-long, too-hot shower in an attempt to distract yourself, only getting out once the water ran cold. You took a resentful look in the mirror and rubbed your temples with a groan. The sudden wake-up had given you a headache.

 

Without bothering to get dressed, you went to the kitchenette to grab pain meds. You looked around your shabby apartment as you filled a glass with water. Your laptop was open on your dingy couch. There was hardly any additional furniture, just a coffee table and a few fold-up chairs leaning against the wall. You didn’t even have a TV. The section of room that barely passed as a “kitchen” wasn’t any better—the sink was piled with dishes, the linoleum was peeling, the fridge was practically empty, and all you had to cook with was a microwave and an old countertop burner.

 

You sighed at the sight of everything; the dark little apartment seemed more pathetic than ever. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you were standing naked in the middle of it, wet and cold and alone.

 

“Welp. Guess that’s Monday for ya,” you grumbled in your best Garfield impression. You chuckled pitifully and slid to the ground, leaning your head back against the kitchen cabinets as a puddle grew around you. You hugged your arms and tried not to read into the fact that you couldn’t stop shaking.

 

It was hard to resist the misery when you really had nothing to look forward to. It was Monday, which meant you wouldn’t be working at the restaurant tonight, which meant there was no way you’d get to see Sans.

 

 _Sans._ Just thinking his name somehow calmed you down.

 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, and instead of thrusting you back into the familiar nightmare, your mind let you visit some kinder memories. Running after the last bus; coffee burning the roof of your mouth; ketchup and pickle juice.

 

A smile snuck up on you. This would be the second time you’d gotten over your fear thanks to him, and he’d never even know about it. Was it weird that he could ease you out of a panic attack even when he wasn’t there?

 

Probably.

 

* * *

 

By the time you were heading to work you could hardly stay awake, but this wouldn’t be the first time you’d fueled your day with nothing but coffee. Once you arrived you pulled on your jumpsuit and grabbed your supply-cart, covering a yawn as you trudged out into the empty halls.

 

At least, they should’ve been empty.

 

A small, murmuring crowd of teachers and parents were gathered outside the main office, with expressions ranging from curiosity to irritation. You tilted your head in confusion and approached them, trying to look nonchalant—the faculty members were always quick to snap at you if they thought you weren’t doing your job. You craned your neck to try and get a look, but just as you managed to see through the office door’s small window, the crowd dispersed, scattering into whispering pairs as they hurried away and tried to look like they weren’t just eavesdropping. Your face fell into puzzlement as you watched them go, but you jumped when you heard the office door open. You pretended to mop, trying to blend in as you turned your head just enough to see who had emerged.

 

You almost dropped the mop in surprise.

 

Shaking the principal’s hand was a huge, goat-like, female monster. She stood well over a head above the man before her, and her pink-padded paw completely engulfed his hand. Her smile was pleasant and polite, despite the sharp fangs that peeked over her lower lip. Two short horns protruded from her forehead and two long ears framed her snout. Her red eyes shone stark as blood against her white fur, but they were crinkled with smile-lines that only added to her sweet, welcoming appearance.

 

“I’m sure the students will be thrilled to meet you!” the principal was saying.

 

“You are very kind,” she responded gratefully. Her voice was warm and lilting; you thought it suited her perfectly. “We were overjoyed to find a co-species school this far from Ebott Valley! Were we not, my child?”

 

She stepped aside as she spoke, and you blinked in surprise to realize that the monster’s wide frame had been blocking a little human kid from your view. Their face could only be described as “sleepy,” but they grinned and nodded emphatically at the question.

 

The principal patted the back of her paw and laughed, “Well, we’re certainly honored to have the ambassador and their mother here. Please don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything more I can do for you!”

 

 _Ambassador?_ You squinted at the kid. They were beaming up at the monster as she started leading them down the hall, and as they turned to wave farewell to the principal, the familiarity finally registered. Your mind flashed back to all the news reports that had been impossible to avoid when the underground first opened. You remembered images of several monsters--whose faces you’d since forgotten—standing hand-in-hand with a small, battered, smiling young child. They were taller now, and their hair had grown out, but there was no mistaking that expression.

 

You were broken out of your stare when the monster noticed you. For a moment, you were completely frozen under her soft gaze. It wasn’t until the principal shot a pointed cough your way that you ducked and rushed off to do your job.

 

You no longer felt tired as you pushed your cart toward the bathrooms and got to work. _So she’s the new TA,_ you mused as you scrubbed toilets and sinks, remembering you co-worker’s excitement. _Not really what I expected._ She was by far the largest monster you’d ever seen in person, and she exuded a certain presence that others lacked. She was almost regal in the way she held herself.

 

Your curiosity only grew as the day wore on. You had no idea which classroom she was in, so you never had the opportunity to catch another glimpse, but it was impossible not to notice the differing reactions from students and teachers: The majority of the kids were beside themselves with enthusiasm, clamoring to meet the newcomers; and the teachers seemed divided between those highly in favor and those even more highly against.

 

During lunch-break, you sat outside to eat your packed meal while simultaneously keeping an eye on the kids. The teachers on duty for recess weren’t always the most attentive, and you’d often be the first one on the scene if a student hurt themselves, or picked a fight with a classmate, or needed an extra teammate for kickball, or just needed someone to talk to.

 

You frowned into your paper bag—nothing but an apple and a couple pop-tarts. You must’ve forgotten to pack something decent while you were trying not to think about pressure and claws…

 

“May I join you?”

 

You dropped your lunch in surprise as your head shot up.

 

The goat monster towered over you with a paw extended. When you jumped, her expression shifted into something between friendly and fretful. “Ah, I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you!”

 

Your face matched hers as you picked up the fallen sack, reassuring, “No no, you’re fine, sorry sorry! I’m just a little jumpy today, that’s all.” Remembering her request, you hastily scooted over on the bench and added, “A-and sure, yes, you can join me, sorry!”

 

The monster paused for a moment, and then laughed gently at your franticness. The sound of it immediately helped you relax—it was the kind of laugh that was woven with soft maturity and patience. You found yourself smiling as she settled in beside you and said, “It is strange that you are the one apologizing, when I am the one imposing.”

 

“It’s really fine!” Your voice was a little squeaky with nerves. Even sitting, she loomed over you, and the bench was barely long enough to fit you both without the fur on her arms brushing lightly against you. “B-but, um, you know there’s a…a faculty lounge?”

 

“Ah, yes, well. I will admit to being a little…overwhelmed with the faculty,” she confessed. She produced a perfectly-wrapped lunch as she spoke. As she unfolded it in her lap, you couldn’t help noticing how graceful and dainty her movements were. It almost didn’t make sense given her size. “They have been very kind, but they all have so many questions. About me, about my child… Sometimes, a lady has just _goat_ to enjoy her lunch in peace!”

 

You snorted violently. You slapped a hand over your grin and looked at her in shock. _Do they know each other? Are all monsters just like that, pulling out stupid puns like it’s nothing?_

Her trilling laugh devolved into snickers before she added, “I am sorry, dear, that one just slipped out!”

 

“Don’t apologize, that was _hilarious,_ ” you assured. Just like with Sans, the silly joke put you at ease with this stranger.

 

“You really think so? Oh, whenever I try telling them to Frisk they pull the funniest little scowl!” She giggled, her face glowing at the mention of the name “Frisk.”

 

“Frisk…is that the human ambassador?” you asked. “Sorry, I-I kind of overheard you talking to the principal.”

 

She nodded proudly. “Yes! My child is quite accomplished, are they not?” Her eyes turned fondly out toward a group of playing children. You followed her stare and smiled to see Frisk already getting along with a cluster of chattering monsters and humans. To your surprise, the ambassador was considerably taller than their classmates—you guessed they’d just looked small in comparison to their massive mother. Her voice took on an added softness as she sighed, “So young, yet they have already done so much for the world.”

 

“Yeah,” you murmured, impressed. “How old are they anyway?” Most of the kids they were currently laughing with were between nine and ten—or, at least, the humans were. You still hadn’t quite figured out how monster ages worked.

 

“Thirteen years,” she replied, and continued before you could ask the obvious question, “They have had many things keeping them from receiving a normal education. I, of course, believe fully in the importance of attending school, but even now, they would rather be travelling, improving human-monster relationships everywhere, and…well. We have had to compromise.”

 

“So…you’re doing, like, an exchange student type thing?”

 

“Precisely!”

 

Before she could go on, her eyes shifted toward something behind you.

 

You heard a chorus of little voices chime, “Miss Naya, Miss Naya!” You turned to grin at the pair of kids bouncing toward you—a young boy dragging his slime-monster friend by their arm, a grin on his face as he waved excitedly.

 

“Hiya Ben,” you greeted naturally. “And what’s your name, bud?” You knew the names of most of the human students, but you were still getting to know the recently-enrolled monsters.

 

“This is Glummy, and _they_ don’t _believe_ me ‘bout your _special power_!” The human boy dragged out all his words in exasperation, pointing accusingly at the slime.

 

Glummy ducked shyly and grumbled, “Yeah ‘cuz yer always makin’ stuff up.”

 

You gave the slime a serious look, leaned down, and assured, “Oh, he’s not making _anything_ up. Not this time.”

 

Their eyes widened as Ben gave a huge, excited smile. You were barely holding back laughter. This was what had first made you popular with the students, this “special power” of yours.

 

“Special power?” The goat-monster’s inquiry rang out sweetly next to you.

 

You blushed a bit in embarrassment as you turned back to explain, but Ben beat you to it. His tone and face were intense as he exclaimed, “Yeah yeah, Miss T, Naya has _super vision_!”

 

“You c-can’t call Ms. Hoepfull that,” Glummy mumbled nervously, glancing at the large monster.

 

_Miss T, Ms. Hoepfull…? Oh god I haven’t even asked her name._

 

“It is quite alright, my child,” she laughed, giving the slime a kind pat on the head before smiling at you expectantly.

 

You tried to give her a look that communicated how much you were hamming it up for these kids, but the human was too quick to shove his friend and hiss, “Go on, ya gotta ask her, then she’ll tell ya.”

 

Shifting their gelatinous feet, Glummy took a deep breath and asked, “What…er, what color am I?”

 

Well, you might as well have fun with this. You were still aware of the goat-monster’s curious gaze as you solemnly closed your eyes and held out your hands for the slime. You didn’t flinch when you felt their goopy fingers touch yours tentatively. You leaned in, sucked in a quick breath, and opened your eyes suddenly, making the kid gasp in surprise. You managed not to smile as you squinted at them for a few moments. You actually had to concentrate for this part.

 

Sure enough, it came to you, clear enough to the point of it being almost visible. You sat back, releasing Glummy with a decisive nod. “Mm-hm. Interesting.”

 

Their eyes were practically sparkling with intrigue. “D-did you do it?”

 

You finally allowed a grin as you said, “Yellow, with a tiny bit of orange. It’s called ‘amber.’” You gave them an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “You’ve got an _awesome_ color.”

 

Glummy lit up, their mouth a perfect “O” of astonishment. They turned to their friend and gushed, “Th-that was so cool, she’s totally right!”

 

“I know, I know! She said my color’s _fuchsia,_ ” he said smugly. “Betcha don’t even know what that is!”

 

As the two chased each other away, you heard the slime accuse, “That’s not a real color, quit makin’ stuff up!”

 

You giggled once they were out of earshot—it was way too easy to impress these kids. You started turning back to the goat-monster, shrugging and dismissing, “Sorry about the interruption, I…” You trailed off when you saw her expression.

 

For an instant before she composed herself, her red eyes were fixed on you far too intently. Her mouth was parted a bit in somber disbelief, and her paw was frozen tensely over her heart. She blinked a few times and managed to ask, “Can, ah, lots of humans do that?”

 

You had no idea why she looked so bothered. Did you do something weird? Were you not supposed to hold the slime’s hand, was that some kind of monster taboo? “Uh, not really? I-I’m sorry, did I offend—”

 

“No, no, of course not, dear,” she assured, quickly regaining her warm persona. “It is just…surprising. Have you always had this ability?”

 

“Yeah,” you replied cautiously, still thrown off by her reaction. “I guess it’s called synesthesia? Ever since I was a kid I just associate people with different colors. I-it’s not really a ‘special power,’ the kids just play it up a lot.”

 

“Can you see my color?”

 

The question left you even more confused. One look at her face told you she was serious, almost…worried? What on earth triggered this? “I, uh, I-I can try, um…” Trying not to feel too embarrassed, you turned so you were facing her fully, repeating the process but with much less drama than how you’d done it with Glummy. You squinted. You concentrated. You could see…

 

Nothing.

 

You blinked. _Huh?_ “That’s…that’s weird.”

 

“Anything?”

 

“I-I’m sorry, but…no, I can’t tell at all.” You weren’t looking at her anymore, instead staring out of focus as your bewilderment grew. This had never happened before. Some people were less clear than others, fainter, but you were _always_ able to make something out.

 

She didn’t seem at all surprised. She opened her mouth, about to push it further, but the sudden ring of the school-bell made both of you jump.

 

You shot to your feet and exclaimed, “Shoot, I completely lost track of the time!” You looked at her untouched lunch and apologized, “I-I’m so sorry, you didn’t even have the chance to eat…”

 

“Please do not fret, dear,” she laughed gently, rising as well. “It has been a complete pleasure speaking with you!”

 

Although you were still feeling a bit unnerved, you smiled appreciatively and agreed, “Yeah, i-it was really nice to meet you, Ms. Hoepfull.” You meant it, too. It was impossible not to warm up to this kindly monster.

 

She looked surprised for a moment, then chuckled and corrected, “Ah, please, call me Toriel!” Her eyes flicked to the embroidered name on your jumpsuit as she added, “I truly look forward to seeing you again, Anaya.”

 

You parted with a hasty wave, and then hurried back inside to finish up your shift.

 

You couldn’t keep your mind from dwelling on Toriel. Sure, synesthesia was a little unusual, but you’d never seen someone take it so seriously. And why couldn’t you see anything? When you tried looked at her, why did it feel like you were being…blocked?


	6. Like dude that's suuuuuper red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for all the comments and support, you guys are way too friggin cool ;u;
> 
> And I've seen a couple people express concern over this, so I wanna just give some reassurance: There's not gonna be any sort of love triangle involving Toriel, the "slight soriel" tag isn't referring to that, fret not. XD

You didn’t see Toriel at lunch the next day—you presumed the teachers had finally cornered her with their interrogations. Before you wrapped up your shift you ran into your co-worker, who clutched a modest bouquet of daisies and wore an ecstatic grin.

 

“So didja meet her?” he asked breathlessly as he followed you into the break-room.

 

“Yup. She’s really nice, man, you’re gonna love her,” you affirmed, holding in laughter. Practically bouncing from excitement, he looked like an over-stimulated puppy.

 

“Eep, I can’t wait!” He took out his phone and gave you a fretful look. “Do you think she’d mind if I took a picture? My boyfriend really wants to see her, he’s even happier than I am!”

 

You shrugged. “She’s, like, the sweetest lady ever, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

 

He beamed again, holding the flowers close to his chest. “If you say so!” Giving you a last farewell wave, he shot out the door to track Toriel down before his shift started.

 

You were impatient as you walked home, jittery excitement building in your gut at the knowledge that you’d be working at the restaurant that night. Even entering your drab apartment—with the dishes still dirty and the bed-sheets in disarray—couldn’t dampen your spirits. You kicked off your shoes, jumped in the shower, and gave yourself a rationalizing talk.

 

“Okay,” you muttered out loud, simultaneously washing your hair. “Okay, work’s in two hours. Okay. You’re stoked. No point trying to hide it. Just…just play it cool when you get there. Chill. _Hella_ chill. I mean, you’ve hung out. Officially. That gets you an upgrade from ‘acquaintance,’ right? Yeah. Totally. We’re at least…like… _advanced_ acquaintances.” You had a tendency to ramble like a lunatic whenever your mind was stuck on something.

 

Or someone.

 

Everything about you was buzzing when you finally left for work. You had a sudden thought as you were tapping your feet impatiently on the bus. _How many years has it been since I’ve been this excited about anything? About anyone?_ That sent a mixed flush of embarrassment and butterflies straight to your stomach.

 

Of course it had been a while since you’d made a friend. You had so many reasons to distance yourself. You moved so often; you worked too much; you were a boring penny-pincher; and you hadn’t exactly had the best luck when letting yourself get close to someone. You tensed at that, unconsciously scratching the pale mark at your hairline. Your good mood flickered. _Yeah, bad luck in that department. Horrible luck._

You shoved the thoughts away when you arrived, tossing one hopeful look at the restaurant next door before going inside.

 

It was busy enough that you started to worry you wouldn’t get your break. A few hours went by, with you casting anxious glances to the side door every time you passed it. You were going to miss him. He got off earlier than you, and it wasn’t like he’d think to wait.

 

Around the middle of your shift your manager told you someone had come from next door to borrow some ground beef, and sent you to fetch it. Feeling rushed with everything else, you kept your head down as you grabbed the meat and marched briskly to the side door to deliver it, saying, “Is five pounds gonna be enough for—”

 

“heh. thought i might _beef_ seeing you here.”

 

Your head snapped up. There was Sans, wide grin and all, but you recovered from the surprise quicker this time.

 

His eyes shifted awkwardly when your face went completely deadpan. You were staring at him in silence for several moments before he coughed, “you, uh, see what i did there? beef. like—”

 

He jumped as you suddenly frowned and hammered your fist to your palm. “Shoot! Sorry. I was trying to think of a good meat pun, but I didn’t wanna butcher it.”

 

It sunk in.

 

You froze.

 

He froze.

 

Your face lit up with victory as he devolved into a fit of messy snorts and snickers. You pointed excitedly and exclaimed, “Oh, oh, I did it, I totally did it!” You opened your arms and grinned while he nearly fell to the ground, clutching his sides as he shook with laughter. “Right? That’s pretty good, right?”

 

“snrk, that was…oh my god i have to use that, and you just _stumbled into it_ , holy shit,” he wheezed.

 

You had to cover your mouth with both hands to keep the giggles contained—you didn’t want your manager peeking around the corner and catching you goofing off with a skeleton. Oh man. Who would’ve ever thought you’d worry about something like that?

 

“Dude, shush, you’re gonna get me in trouble,” you hissed through your fingers. “My manager’s gonna hear us!”

 

“sorry, you’re right. wouldn’t want her _having a cow_ , would we?”

 

And just like that, you were both gasping for air once again. He couldn’t help it. You couldn’t either, for that matter. You pointed urgently toward the door and snuck out beside him, still holding the meat in the crook of your arm.

 

Once you were safe in the alley you allowed yourself a few helpless guffaws. Tears were leaking from your eyes as you managed to say, “Not gonna lie, _really_ proud of myself right now.”

 

Sans was laughing so hard that he had to put a hand on your shoulder for support. The unexpected contact quieted you for a moment—your eyes were trained on his phalanges digging into your sleeve as he gradually worked his way down to chuckles.

 

“and i thought _i_ was the legendary pun-master,” he snickered.

 

You were relaxing, despite the extended contact. “I hereby challenge your throne, good sir,” you giggled, lifting your chin and looking far down your nose at the skeleton.

 

He was indignant. “you _dare_?”

 

You tried to look perfectly blank as you replied, “No.” Slowly, you lifted the ground beef between the two of you to hide your smug grin. “I… _dairy_.”

 

He snorted so hard he had to tighten his grip on you to keep his balance. “ok, wrong food group, but you get _bull points_ for that one.”

 

After that, you were both in serious danger of losing your minds from laughter, but you couldn’t allow yourself too much time before you sputtered, “Ok, o-ok, I really have to get back to work now, she’s gonna come looking for me.”

 

The look of disappointment on his face sent a pleasant shiver through your gut. “me too. Lame.”

 

Sans let go, and even though he’d barely been touching you, the loss of his hand instantly made you colder. You rubbed your sleeve and rasped out a few final chuckles, then suddenly blushed when you remembered the whole reason he’d come into your restaurant. You shoved the meat toward him and blurted, “Whoops, h-ha, guess you still need this.”

 

“guess i do.” He took it, but didn’t pull it out of your hand. You tilted your head questioningly, but when he glanced up at you with one of his unreadable smiles, you tensed. He started feeling around in his pocket as he muttered, “almost forgot, wanted to give you something.”

 

Your pulse quickened. “O-oh yeah?”

 

You blinked when he pulled out his phone and simultaneously took the ground beef from your hands. “my number.”

 

“Oh! Oh, yeah, duh, I have one of those,” you squeaked, feeling stupid.

 

He snorted, “uh, yeah. i figured.”

 

Your hands were shaking a bit as you took your own phone from your pocket. You almost jumped when he casually took it from you and typed something in, his hard fingers clicking sharply against the screen. _How does that even work for him? Is he making his own body heat?_ you wondered absently, before he passed it back to you.

 

“and just so you don’t think i’m being _phony_ …” He typed a quick message from his phone.

 

You looked down as yours lit up and read, ***knock knock**

 

You had to get back to work, but you couldn’t resist playing along. ***Who’s there?**

***window**

***Window who?**

***window u wanna hang out again**

Your eyes darted back up to him. He was grinning and blue. You still had no idea what that meant. “You…really want to?”

 

The question seemed to surprise him. “heh, uh, yes.”

 

“I-I mean, I want to, too! Um, let’s see, gosh I work a lot but…” You were talking way too fast. “I’m free—”

 

“ _There you are!_ ”

 

You whipped around at your manager’s voice. She was sticking her head out the door, looking frazzled and angry. “What’s taking so long, Naya?! You have tables!”

 

“S-sorry ma’am!” you yelped, quickly trotting over to follow her in. You glanced back to mouth an apology to Sans, but you didn’t dare say anything. He gave you a sympathetic wince. To your confusion, he flicked one hand from his eye to a pointing motion in some weird signal, doing it as naturally as one might wave goodbye. You didn’t get the chance to think about it as you entered back into your bustling restaurant.

 

Luckily, your manager was too rushed to chew you out properly; she just sent you back to work and told you to let her know next time you decided to take a surprise break.

 

The rest of your shift flew by and gave you no time to check your phone. You could feel it pressing against your leg all night—you wondered if he’d said anything else, you wondered if he was waiting for a response.

 

Just before the end of your shift, your manager approached you again. “Hey, I know it’s last-minute, but there was a weird overlap in scheduling for tomorrow, so would you mind taking the night off?”

 

You agreed tentatively. On the one hand, you were discouraged to miss out on the hours, but on the other you hardly ever had a night to yourself. Maybe you’d finally be able to go to sleep at a decent time.

 

You were one of the last people to clock out for the night, so once you walked out to sit at the bus stop, you were completely alone. It took a few moments of stillness for it to sink in.

 

_Oh my god. He gave me his number._

Just as the thought occurred to you, you heard the fateful tinkle of your message tone. You stared eagerly down at the word: ***so**

You smiled to yourself. ***So…I’m off tomorrow?**

***cool. pick u up at 3?**

_Pick me up?_ you thought with a mixture of nerves and excitement. _Wow. Ok, yup, this is for real._ ***Yeah, sounds cool!**

***cool**

***Cool cool!**

***woah hold up pal thats too cool**

***Uh…temperate then?**

***lol**

***Ha ha, night Sans!**

You didn’t get a reply until you got home. It came as you were peeling off clothes on your way to bed. You collapsed on the mattress and smiled down at the screen before closing your eyes, and for once, it didn’t take long at all for you to fall asleep.

 

***night night nye-nye**

**\---**

You couldn’t keep your eyes off the clock all through work the next day. You wished the time would go by faster. The happy excitement of the previous night had evolved into anxiety, and your thoughts kept wandering down fretful paths. _Hang out? That’s pretty vague, isn’t it? Like…what do people even do when they “hang out?” When was the last time I did that of my own will? With someone who I actually like being around?_ You couldn’t even remember.

 

At lunch, you went to your standard bench by the playground, feeling a little relieved that Toriel wasn’t there waiting for you—your mind was so scattered, you doubted you’d be a very interesting conversationalist.

 

You ate your sandwich as your thoughts continued to race. _Saturday night was a fluke. I was tired and silly and still feeling a little confident from work and he surprised me so I didn’t have time to get worked up over it and now I’m rambling in my own head and he’s gonna find out I’m crazy and boring and—_

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, breaking you out of your mental tirade.

 

Smiling gently at you was the Human Ambassador. Frisk’s eyes were so narrowed that you couldn’t see their irises. They wore an eclectic outfit: a long multi-colored striped skirt; a cat-print t-shirt; and a furry trapper hat.

 

You blinked in surprise before smiling back and saying, “O-oh hi, uh…Frisk, right?”

 

They nodded sweetly. Tilting their head questioningly, they pointed to the seat beside you, taking a small step toward the bench.

 

“You wanna sit here?”

 

Another nod.

 

“Sure! I mean, unless you’d rather play with your classmates…” You gestured toward a group of kids who were watching Frisk impatiently.

 

They gave a flippant wave and frown as they plopped down beside you, kicking their feet out to reveal a pair of bright red rain boots. They swung their legs happily as they grinned up at you.

 

You shrugged. “Well alrighty. Is your mom gonna join us?”

 

They shook their head emphatically, then to your surprise, their hands flickered in quick movements around their head and chest. They looked up at you expectantly once they were done.

 

You blinked with realization. “Oh! You’re…you’re signing? But…you’re not deaf, are you?”

 

Another head-shake, along with the beginnings of a set of signs that they quickly cut off by raising one finger in a “wait” signal. They reached into a pocket of their skirt and produced a small notebook. Quickly, they scrawled, **Nope, just can’t talk with my voice. Use hands instead!** They waggled their fingers toward you in indication.

 

“Man, that makes me wish I’d stuck with my ASL classes,” you muttered ponderously.

 

**I can teach you sometime!**

You smiled down at the sweet kid and agreed, “That’d be awesome!” Frisk shared the same kind charisma their mother possessed, and you found yourself feeling instantly at ease with them. The fact that they were still so young helped—as awkward as you could be with adults, you tended to get along easily with children.

 

Frisk’s mouth opened as if they just remembered something. They wrote, **Glummy told me about your power.**

“Oh yeah? Ha, it’s actually not that big a deal,” you derided self-consciously.

 

**Mom said you got the color right!**

You stared at the words in confusion, feeling a touch of that weird tension Toriel had exhibited the other day. _What on earth is that supposed to mean?_

Before you could ask about it, Frisk winced and scribbled hastily, **Whoops. Actually, she asked me not to talk to you about it.**

 

Now you were even more uncomfortable, and more sure than ever that you’d upset her somehow. “Uh…hey, did she say if I, uh, did something wrong…?”

 

They shook their head. **She likes you a lot. She said you laughed at her dumb puns.**

You snorted. _Well that makes it a little better._

 

Frisk tossed a secretive glance over their shoulder before turning back with a smile. They wrote in small words, as if they were trying to whisper. **Hey, don’t tell mom, but do you think you could tell me my color?**

You were hesitant. “Uh, are you sure? I don’t wanna go behind Toriel’s back…”

 

They pouted and knotted their hands together in a begging motion.

 

“Woah, that’s one mean puppy-dog face you got there. Fine, fine,” you relented with a teasing sigh. “Just keep it between us, ok?”

 

They grinned and offered you their hands. You took them, closed your eyes, and let out a slow breath. When you looked up at Frisk, you were shocked to find that the color revealed itself instantly. A bright, warm, impossibly vibrant crimson, surrounding them and flaring from their chest in waves. You could almost see it. Could you see it? There, pulsing softly, concentrated at the center in a familiar shape…

 

The surprise quickly broke your concentration, and the color as well as the intensity coming off it disappeared. “Red,” you announced quietly. “It’s, uh, really freaking red.”

 

Frisk went slack, then inhaled, then grinned in absolute delight. For the first time, their eyes opened enough for you to see the irises. You felt the shock wash over you again. Red. Red as their mother’s eyes. Red as their unmistakable aura. How was that possible?

 

Releasing your hands, they wrote, **SHE WAS RIGHT SHE WAS RIGHT YOU SAW IT!!** They froze and gave you a sudden serious look. **Don’t tell her. Promise??**

You didn’t quite know how to process any of this. This was the second overreaction you’d gotten over your synesthesia, and you still had no idea what caused it. “I-I…ok? I won’t?”

 

Frisk nodded and wrote, **We’re friends now. I’m gonna tell Mom to invite you over to dinner, ok?**

They didn’t even give you a chance to respond before hopping up and skipping toward their friends, looking pleased with themself.

 

Your mind continued to race for the rest of your shift. You wondered about Frisk, about Toriel, about synesthesia, about too-bright colors, and most of all about Sans. Predictably, the skeleton took up more and more of your headspace the closer it got to three. You were distracted saying goodbye to the other janitor, distracted on your way home, and once you arrived in your apartment, your mind finally went blank.

 

“…I have less than an hour,” you said blandly.

 

A few beats passed before you started tearing around your apartment, frantically trying to get ready. You ripped off your wrinkled, slightly-sweaty clothes and stared helplessly at the pile of laundry in your room. You didn’t have much besides jeans and t-shirts, but you dug around until you at least found a semi-decent sweater.

 

Once you were dressed, you brushed your hair and teeth, then spent a few moments looking at yourself. You looked tired as ever, but…not horrible. At least you weren’t in work clothes.

 

You jumped when the doorbell rang. You took a deep breath. “Ok,” you hissed. “Hella chill. Just like last time.”

 

You walked to the door, straightened your sweater, and opened it with a grin that you hoped made you look less anxious.

 

The air was knocked out of you when you were suddenly slammed against a body that was much taller than what you’d been expecting. Lanky arms wrapped around your shoulders and rocked you enthusiastically from side to side. You wheezed, tensing with shock as your mind tried to make sense of what was happening.

 

“GREETINGS, HUMAN!” You heard the excitable voice resonating through the ribcage your ear was pressed against.

 

“uh, maybe ease up a little, paps.”

 

“AH, OF COURSE! A PROPER INTRODUCTION IS IN ORDER!”

 

You were suddenly free. You almost lost your balance as you put a steadying hand to the doorframe.

 

Sans was smiling at you from one side, but directly before you was a tall, sharp, thin skeleton with his jaw stretched in a proud grin. He had his fists on his hips and his legs spread in a firm stance. He wore a frilly, knee-length skirt and a bubbly sweater that read, “Sassy Baby Pop!” He exuded pure confidence.

 

You couldn’t even say anything. You could only gape in dumb confusion, much to Sans’ amusement.

 

The skeleton placed a hand on his chest and boomed, “NYEH HEH, I SEE YOU ARE AWESTRUCK! THIS IS HARDLY SURPRISING! FEW HUMANS ARE ACCUSTOMED TO MEETING SUCH A GREAT, HANDSOME, AND INTRIGUING MONSTER SUCH AS THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

 

Sans chuckled, stepping forward and gesturing between the two of you. “paps, meet my friend naya. naya, this is my ultra-cool bro, papyrus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> frisk frisk frisk and paaaaaaaps


	7. It's Pronounced FUH

“You have a brother?!” You stared up at the taller skeleton and jerked a thumb toward Sans, your expression somewhere between pleasant surprise and absolute shock. “That guy’s your brother?!”

 

Papyrus turned on Sans and whined in outrage, “BROTHER! YOU HAVE NOT TOLD THE HUMAN ANY TALES OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ ACHIEVEMENTS?!”

 

Sans shrugged, looking a little sleepy. “sorry bro. telling her stories wouldn’t do you justice. she had to see you for herself.”

 

“AH. YES. THAT MAKES PERFECT SENSE!”

 

He raised one brow at you and added, “and i texted you that he’d be tagging along.”

 

You blinked. “Uh…I don’t think I’ve looked at my phone since this morning.” You checked, and sure enough there was a message sent sometime while you were at work.

 

***my bro wants to come with**

***yknow**

***if thats temperate with u**

Your eyes popped back up to Papyrus as you exclaimed, “No, yeah, yes, that’s totally temp—er, cool with me! S-sorry, yeah, hey, I’m Naya, but you knew that h-ha ha, sorry, I was just startled but yeah sorry it’s really good to—”

 

Papyrus interrupted you by sticking his hand out for you to shake. You took it shyly, offering him an appreciative smile and thinking, _I was rambling, wasn’t I? Great first impression there, Naya._

“THERE IS NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE TO THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” he reassured loudly. “I ALREADY KNOW YOU ARE THRILLED TO MEET ME!” Even though the skeleton seemed full of himself, it was clear his words came from a well-meaning place.

 

“I am, actually!” you laughed. Just like with every monster you’d met in the past few days, you warmed up to him immediately, making you think, _If this is what all monsters are like, humans are really missing out._

Papyrus was looking over your head as you shook hands. “WOWIE! IS THIS WHERE YOU LIVE? IT’S VERY TINY!”

 

You tensed. Your eyes darted to Sans, who was also trying to get a look inside. Oh no. He was going to see your dirty, cheap, embarrassing apartment.

 

Before you could stop him, Papyrus swept past you and into the living room, spinning around to take it all in. “THERE ARE ONLY THREE ROOMS! AND LOOK, THE HUMAN DOES NOT EVEN HAVE A STOVE! HOW ON EARTH IS SHE SUPPOSED TO MAKE SPAGHETTI??”

 

You felt a rush of panic when Sans tried to follow. You conspicuously stepped in front of him and laughed nervously, “H-hah, uh y’know that’s actually, um, not so small by human standards!” Your voice was squeaking, your face was burning, and you were trying not to meet Sans’ eyes. You’d never invited anyone into your apartment before, so you’d never had to clean up or take care of the musty smell or explain why you were a complete slob, and the last person you wanted seeing that was him. “Hey, Papyrus, can we just—”

 

“HER ROOM LOOKS JUST LIKE YOURS, BROTHER! SHE EVEN HAS THE BEGINNINGS OF A TRASH TORNADO RIGHT OVER—”

 

“paps. didn’t you say you wanted to try that noodle place downtown?”

 

The skeleton’s head snapped to attention, like Sans had just said the magic words. He practically sprinted past the two of you and down the stairs, taking entire flights with one leap and calling, “I HAD ALMOST FORGOTTEN!! COME BROTHER, COME HUMAN, WE MUST NOT DITHER!”

 

You breathed a sigh of relief and tried to close the door, but now Sans was the one blocking your way. You finally met his look, letting out a hoarse laugh and saying, “W-well, you heard him, let’s—”

 

“hey.”

 

You went silent when he caught your eyes. The blush wouldn’t leave your cheeks as he took a small step forward, tossed a glance behind you, and then shoved his hands in his pockets.

 

“you, uh, don’t need to worry, alright? about us judging you.”

 

Seeing the sincerity in his face was making it a little hard to breathe properly. You eventually stuttered, “Y-yeah, I know, I totally know.” When he didn’t reply, you added quietly, “…Sorry. I don’t, uh, entertain much, y’know?”

 

“heh, i get it. we didn’t exactly grow up with the best living arrangements either.” He regained his friendly, sleepy smile as he stepped aside to let you close your door.

 

“Really?” you pried, following him down the stairs.

 

“well, we had a nice house, but…” He shrugged. “we were all pretty cramped.”

 

His implication sunk in. “O-oh, right. Underground and all.” He didn’t seem bothered about it, so your curiosity got the better of you. “How was that anyway? I’ve never heard about it from someone who actually lived there.”

 

You’d reached street level. Papyrus was marching a ways down the sidewalk, waving eagerly for the two of you to catch up. Sans returned the wave and answered, “heh, that’s kind of a loaded question.”

 

“S-sorry!” you fretted. “That’s probably hard to talk about, I wasn’t thinking…”

 

“not what I meant,” he chuckled. “relax, pal.” You’d almost caught up to Papyrus, but the skeleton was so impatient that he kept skipping yards ahead of you. “i just mean that…i don’t know, it wasn’t terrible, but we all knew it wasn’t as good as it could be, if that makes sense.”

 

You wanted to know more, but you were interrupted when Papyrus cried, “THEY ARE GOING TO RUN OUT OF NOODLES IF WE DON’T MAKE HASTE!” He was jogging in place at a street corner while throwing back worried looks. “I WANT VERY BADLY TO TRY THE FO!”

 

“don’t sweat it bro, you’ll get your fo.” Despite his reassurance, Sans didn’t change his leisurely pace.

 

“’Fo?’” you repeated. “Do you guys mean pho? Like the noodles that come in a soup?”

 

Papyrus looked ecstatic, spinning to look at you with his hands clasped under his chin. “YOU HAVE TRIED IT? IS IT COOKED IN TOMATO SOUP? DOES IT COME WITH GARLIC BREAD OR LASAGNA OR—”

 

You laughed and shook your head. “No, no, it’s nothing like spaghetti!” You were already gathering that this skeleton had an endearing obsession with pasta. “Don’t go into it with spaghetti in mind, you won’t like it.”

 

Papyrus looked overwhelmed. “OH MY GOD, KEEPING TRACK OF ALL YOUR HUMAN DISHES IS IMPOSSIBLE! IT SEEMS I LEARN OF A NEW KIND OF NOODLE EVERY DAY!!”

 

“Well, lots of different places have different noodles,” you explained. “Spaghetti is from Italy, pho is from Vietnam, and…” You stopped at the look of confusion on Papyrus’ face. You held your hands out to indicate distance and said, “Italy and Vietnam are places that are super far apart. Like…a continent apart. So their food is nothing alike.”

 

You continued to list off various types of international dishes as you walked, making Papyrus’ eye sockets widen more and more in wonder. Sans listened with a content, tired smile, occasionally interjecting with a pun when the opportunity arose. You always laughed, but you quickly discovered the taller skeleton’s frustration with his brother’s sense of humor.

 

You’d all arrived at the restaurant when Sans snickered, “well this should be _pho_ -n.”

 

Papyrus groaned dramatically as he held the door open for you and demanded, “OH MY GOD, THAT’D BETTER BE THE LAST ONE. NO PUNS WHILE WE’RE EATING, SANS, I MEAN IT!”

 

Once you sat down, Papyrus poured eagerly over the menu, but Sans simply leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

 

“Aren’t you gonna order anything?” you asked, already knowing what you wanted.

 

He opened one eye and smiled at you. “nah, don’t have the stomach for it.”

 

“Oh, do you not like Asian…” Your face went blank when you got the joke. “Oh.”

 

Sans laughed while Papyrus growled from behind his menu. The shorter skeleton was still grinning as he reached for the bottle of sriracha in the middle of the table and took a sip. _Guess it’s not just ketchup,_ you pondered.

 

You giggled at the brothers’ banter until your food arrived—you and Papyrus had ordered simple beef pho. His eyes widened curiously as he inspected the broth and noodles, which had been served separately. “I THOUGHT THEY WERE COOKED _IN_ THE SOUP, HOW AM I EXPECTED TO EAT THIS?!”

 

“You’re supposed to put them in yourself.” You showed him, dumping in the noodles, meat and vegetables and stirring them in the steaming broth. “See?”

 

“INGENIOUS!” Papyrus cackled in delight as he followed suit. “NYEH HEH, IT IS LIKE A PUZZLE IN CULINARY FORM!”

 

“And then you load it up with sauce.” You grabbed the sweet chili sauce and squirted a generous amount in your pho. You jerked a thumb toward the sriracha still in Sans’ hand and added, “That one’s spicy, if you like that.”

 

Papyrus tucked into his meal eagerly, gushing about the “distinctly-not-spaghettiesque” flavor. You watched him for a moment, realizing there was something bothering you as he happily devoured the noodles. It clicked and you asked, “How…how are you even eating those?”

 

The tall skeleton tilted his head at you.

 

“I mean…you don’t have lips. But you’re still…um…slurping?” The noodles had been disappearing between his teeth despite the lack of muscles or a tongue to pull them in.

 

Before Papyrus could answer, Sans leaned over and forked some of your noodles, deliberately sucking them into his mouth and trying not to laugh at your perplexed expression.

 

“The question still stands?” you squeaked.

 

“magic,” he snickered with a mystic wave.

 

You blushed in chagrin.

 

Your expression must have been pitiful, as Sans immediately raised his hand in apology and assured, “no, really. magic. if there’s a body part we need, we just think about it and boom. it’s there.”

 

You gave Papyrus a skeptical look. “Is he telling the truth?”

 

Papyrus shrugged dismissively, turning back to his food. “I DON’T HAVE TIME TO WORRY ABOUT THAT SCI-FI MUMBO-JUMBO!” The way he said it made you think he didn’t have the same understanding that his brother did.

 

“look.” Sans was still holding up his skeletal hand and smiling at you. He wiggled his fingers and said, “lemme show ya.”

 

You hesitated before reaching out. You let out a quiet gasp when your hand was stopped just short of his, halted by some invisible barrier. It was soft, smooth, and warm, not quite as firm as flesh, but solid enough that you couldn’t press through to the bone. You felt a strange buzzing travel from the point of contact, sending what felt like a gentle sort of electricity from your fingertips to your shoulder.

 

You jerked back when a blue glow suddenly enveloped the hand, bringing his “body” into hazy focus while leaving the underlying skeleton visible. It almost made his hand look…human. If human flesh was cyan and transparent.

 

“Woah…that’s amazing,” you breathed as the glow disappeared. That was the closest exposure to real magic you’d had since the barrier fell. You met his eyes, your face lit up in wonder. “You’re amazing!”

 

His cheekbones briefly shone with the same blue glow. You swallowed, suddenly unable to look away. The familiar curiosity flickered in your mind as you started, “Hey, Sans? What’s that on your—”

 

You were interrupted when a J-pop song suddenly blared from Papyrus’ pocket. You self-consciously went back to eating your pho, avoiding Sans’ stare and listening to the louder skeleton boom, “PAPYRUS SPEAKING! IS THAT YOU, UNDYNE?!”

 

The more he chatted with “Undyne,” the more your curiosity grew. Papyrus was even friendlier and more animated than usual as he spoke to them. The call ended abruptly when he slammed his phone down on the table and declared, “UNDYNE AND ALPHYS HAVE ARRIVED, AND THEY’VE REQUESTED THE HELP OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS TO MOVE INTO THEIR APARTMENT!”

 

Sans immediately looked sleepy. “can’t she just lift all the furniture herself? i’ve seen what she benches.”

 

Papyrus shot up from the table with his hands on his hips. “SANS! IS THAT THE ATTITUDE OF A GOOD FRIEND? NO! THAT IS THE ATTITUDE OF A LAZY-BONES!!”

 

“Who was that?” you asked in confusion.

 

Papyrus beamed down at you. “MY VERY _VERY_ BEST FRIEND, UNDYNE!”

 

“and her wife, alphys,” Sans supplied.

 

“THEY ARE BOTH OUR MOST COMRADELY OF COMRADES!” The skeleton was so eager that he was already heading toward the door, calling, “COME, WE MUST ASSIST THEM POST-HASTE!!”

 

“B-but, the bill…” You weakly tried to stop him, but he was already gone.

 

“i got it,” came Sans’ chuckle. He put some money on the table and added apologetically, “paps gets a little overeager, but look, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” He stood and scratched the back of his skull. “feels kinda shitty to put you to work when we were supposed to be hanging out.”

 

“No!” you said a bit too quickly. You stood, too, blushing and amending, “I-I mean, I don’t mind at all! I can totally help move, I do it all the time. Lifting boxes is my jam.” You flexed the biceps you didn’t have. “Boom. See that? That’s from my last big move.”

 

Sans burst out laughing. “wow. you got a permit for those guns?”

 

The two of you continued to giggle together as you followed Papyrus, who had flagged down a cab driven by a man who looked incredibly alarmed by the excitable skeleton climbing into his car. “UNDYNE HAS TEXTED ME THE ADDRESS, HURRY SANS, HURRY HUMAN!”

 

Sans held the door open for you as you clambered in after his brother. It was a tight fit, with you shoved against Sans’ side due to Papyrus’ size. You stayed quiet and tense throughout the drive. You tried not to think about your proximity to the shorter skeleton. You tried not to think about the fact that his arms were weirdly solid through his jacket sleeve, like the blue magic you’d touched earlier, warm and tingly and subtly electric…

 

“YOUR FACE IS QUITE RED HUMAN, ARE YOU FEELING ILL?”

 

“Haha nope I’m good just a little warm in here!” you chirped nervously.

 

You pretended not to notice Sans letting out a quiet snort beside you.

 

You arrived at a clean, modern cluster of condos across the street from the university. Sans paid the driver as you and Papyrus studied the place appreciatively.

 

“Woah,” you muttered. “This is kinda high-end. Are your friends rich or something?”

 

“ALPHYS GETS OFFERED FREE HOUSING ALL OVER THE COUNTRY!” The skeleton didn’t offer any further explanation as he marched toward a moving van parked in front of one open condo.

 

Once he’d left your side, the social anxiety caught up with you. The surprise of meeting Papyrus had prevented you from psyching yourself out, but now you were about to be introduced to the skeleton brothers’ longtime friends. You had nothing on them. You’d barely known Sans for a week. What would they think of you? Would they think you were awkward? Boring? Probably. They were most likely monsters—did they even _like_ humans? Were you intruding? Oh god, you were totally intruding, Sans was trying to be polite earlier, he didn’t want you coming, you weren’t welcome, you weren’t…

 

“ready to put those guns to work?”

 

Your mind silenced as soon as Sans came up beside you. You stared at him for a few moments, at his expectant grin, and you realized that expression was hard evidence of his kindness. _He said it himself,_ you remembered. _No judging._

“Yeah,” you finally said. “Ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat quicker chapter since it was getting long and this seemed like a good breaking point. I'm kinda having trouble writing Paps??? His personality is so big. How does one wrangle it.


	8. sunday suNDAY SUNDAY, MONSTER RACIIIING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I don't know how to properly express how much all your comments mean to me. Seriously, every single one makes my day and I read each one like a thousand times and i'm a complete dork about it and yeah, really, thank you so much. ;u;

Papyrus was talking to someone in the back of the truck. When he saw you and Sans approaching, he pointed energetically and declared, “THAT’S HER! THE HUMAN WHO HELPED ME SOLVE THE PUZZLING PHO!!” He didn’t stop to watch your introduction, instead busily grabbing an armful of boxes and skipping through the condo’s open door.

 

You swallowed, unconsciously letting your hair fall over your face. You relaxed a bit when Sans stood casually next to you and said, “how was the trip, undyne?” You took a breath. _Good. He’s here. I’m fine._ The thoughts were involuntary, and you immediately felt your cheeks burning as a result.

 

“Shitty, as usual,” growled a female voice. “Long drives always make me carsick!”

 

She—Undyne—hopped out of the van carrying an entire sofa over her head. You barely stopped yourself from gaping in terror when she looked down at you. Her red hair stood out vibrantly against her dark teal scales, obscuring half her face to reveal just one yellow eye, hard and sharp as chipped amber. Your stare couldn’t leave her mouth—a wide, cruel maw filled to bursting with jagged fangs. Her fin-like ears were lowered suspiciously as she studied you. Although you were fixated on her face, some part of your brain registered with surprise that she was wearing a Yotsuba&! t-shirt.

 

“So,” she started, her ripped arms not even trembling as they supported the sofa, “you’re the foody nerd Papyrus has been telling me about.” She was sizing you up, her eye narrowed. She lifted her head enough that the hair fell away from her face to reveal a tarnished eye-patch, and a distinct scar running underneath it.

 

Your heart pounded. _Great. Yeah, obviously she has an eye-patch. Obviously she’s the ultimate badass. That’s cool, that’s fine, that’s not intimidating at all._

She was waiting for an answer. Not knowing what to say, your mouth went ahead and blurted, “Yup I’m Naya also I like your shirt.”

 

You felt like sinking into the ground, and hearing Sans’ barely-suppressed snorts didn’t help. You were too mortified to even look at Undyne.

 

“Wait, seriously?!” she boomed.

 

_Here it comes. She’s gonna ask Sans and Papyrus where the hell they found an awkward dud like me…_

Your vision was suddenly filled with her beaming eye and ecstatic—if not scary—grin as she stooped to be at your eye level, the sofa still balanced above her. You couldn’t tell if she was furious or delighted as she exclaimed, “You like Yotsuba too?! Oh my god, that’s _rad_!”

 

You blinked at her. _Huh?_

 

Undyne shifted the couch to one shoulder to offer you a webbed hand. “Like these boneheads said: Name’s Undyne!”

 

You took it and managed a lopsided smile. “Naya. I-I mean, I just said that, but…”

 

She laughed, “He was right—you’re a _total_ nerd!” She suddenly spun around to face the condo, almost slamming you with the sofa in the process. You didn’t have time to process it before Sans yanked you out of the way, his hand tight on your shoulder as he unintentionally pulled you against his side. _Unintentionally_ , you told yourself, staring at his tense facial expression that was suddenly very close to yours.

 

“that could’ve been a _couch_ tastrophe,” he chuckled in relief. It took him another moment to let go of you, and after that he was as casual as ever, watching Undyne march toward her house with that same lazy grin.

 

Your heart was beating frantically against your ribs. _Yeah. Totally unintentional._

At the same time, Undyne had been calling, “Yo, babe, get out here! I found another short dweeb who likes anime, it’s nuts!!”

 

You were still a bit lightheaded as you and Sans followed her toward the condo. He seemed unaffected as he drawled, “so alph is gonna be working across the street?”

 

“Yup. She’s already scheduled a whole semester’s worth of seminars,” Undyne answered proudly.

 

You inferred they were talking about Undyne’s wife. You felt a new wash of nerves come over you as you wondered, _If she’s this intense, then how crazy must her wife be?_

 

“D-did you say something, honey?”

 

You heard the meek voice pipe up once you’d reached the front step. Through the door stepped what looked like a yellow dinosaur in a floral dress. She was short, plump, and had a fretful expression that made her look incredibly sweet. She wore glasses that magnified her wide eyes, and a blue ribbon was tied in a bow around the reptilian frill on her head.

 

She gasped and raised her hands worriedly when she saw Undyne. “D-do you need help with that?!”

 

“Nope!” With the sofa still on one shoulder, she used her other arm to pick up the smaller monster and plant a kiss on her cheek, eliciting a quiet squeak.

 

You were staring slack-jawed at the couple as Undyne set down both the couch and her wife. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it was very, _very_ far from this. You couldn’t imagine two more different first impressions.

 

Not noticing your surprise, Sans greeted, “sup alphys.”

 

Alphys spun and stuttered, “O-oh, hi Sans! A-and…um?” Her eyes widened further. “New…person?”

 

“Check it out, babe!” Undyne slapped a hand on your shoulder and pointed to her shirt. “I found another tiny dork who likes Yotsuba!”

 

She gasped, a bit of her shyness melting as she clasped her hands and asked, “Y-you do?”

 

Everyone’s eyes, including Sans’, were on you, awaiting an answer. “Uh, yeah, actually I…” You blushed and ducked your head. “…I own every volume. I freaking love it.”

 

You wondered if you’d accidentally uttered a secret password, because Alphys and Undyne were suddenly all over you, ushering you into the house and excitably asking you about anime and Japan and comics and “human history,” and soon you were casting helpless looks back at Sans’ amused smirk, knowing that your nerd knowledge didn’t run deep enough to sate these women.

 

You found Papyrus in the kitchen putting dishes away when Undyne exclaimed, “Wait! You told Papyrus all about pho, right? So do you like other noodles? Do you like ramen? Do you know any good ramen places around here?!”

 

“Or udon,” Alphys added. She wasn’t nearly as boisterous as her wife, but you could see a similar excitement flickering in her eyes.

 

“S-sorry, I, uh, don’t really go out to eat too much,” you apologized, starting to feel a little overwhelmed. You still couldn’t understand how it was possible for monsters to be so friendly so quickly. It had been literally years since you’d hung out with anyone due to anything but obligation, and now you were talking about anime in a strange couple’s home, surrounded by people who actually wanted to get to know you.

 

“THAT’S ALRIGHT, HUMAN!” Papyrus joined in on the conversation. “WE SHALL FIND ALL THE NOODLES THIS CITY HAS TO OFFER TOGETHER! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ON THE CASE, NYEH HEH HEH!!” It was a grand declaration, followed by the skeleton quietly pulling out his phone, presumably to look up restaurants.

 

“aren’t we here to move?” Sans chuckled, slouching against the kitchen’s doorframe.

 

Undyne glared at him accusingly and snapped, “Why’re you complaining? You’d rather do anything but!”

 

He closed his eyes and shrugged. “heh. i’m just sayin’. i was looking forward to seeing who’d be a better mover, you or paps.”

 

Something clicked in both her and the skeleton’s eyes at that. Their glares snapped to each other, with her barking, “I’m gonna win!” and him simultaneously shouting, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL BE VICTORIOUS!”

 

They tousled and laughed as they raced back to the moving van. You gave Sans an impressed look, to which he shrugged and said, “Hey, if you want something done, make it a contest.”

 

The three of you followed at a slower pace. Without Undyne beside her, Alphys was once again quiet and shy. You could definitely relate.

 

“I don’t think I gave my name?” you mentioned, scratching the back of your head. “I’m Naya.”

 

She brightened a bit. “O-oh! Nice to meet you, Naya! I’m Alphys.”

 

Undyne’s grinning face popped out from within the van to add, “That’s _Doctor_ Alphys! Again! _Officially!_ ”

 

The dinosaur blushed fiercely and covered her face. “I-I mean, y-yeah, I…guess th-that’s…oh man.”

 

A rare look of excitement crossed Sans’ face. “woah, you got your doctorate already? awesome.”

 

“I-it’s not a big deal,” Alphys dismissed, but she couldn’t help smiling.

 

“A doctorate?” you repeated in awe. “Holy crap, I _barely_ managed to earn a high school diploma. That’s impressive.”

 

“SHE WAS THE ROYAL SCIENTIST BACK HOME!” Papyrus announced as he carried a coffee table inside.

 

“And now she lectures to humans about her totally badass research!” Undyne was lifting a stack of boxes that towered far over her head, and as she passed Alphys she leaned over to give her an affectionate nuzzle.

 

Alphys didn’t look like she could handle much more praise. “A-aren’t we _all_ supposed t-to be moving?” the small monster stuttered, rushing to the van.

 

“Is she ok?” you asked Sans quietly, watching her awkwardly gather a bundle of clothes in her short arms.

 

“she’s great,” he replied with a chuckle. “better than i’ve ever seen her, actually. she just doesn’t handle the attention well.”

 

You all got into the rhythm of moving boxes into the house and piling them in the front room. The only one holding off was Sans. He’d carried in one tiny stool before resorting to leaning against the van with one eye closed, offering words of encouragement like, “keep on _truck_ ing, guys,” or “wow, you’re strong as a _box_ ,” or “hey alph do you guys have ketchup?”

 

Papyrus had finally had it. He stopped in front of his brother with his hands placed sternly on his hips. “SANS!! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE HELPING, NOT PUNNING!”

 

Sans looked up at him with a tired grin and said, “whatsa matter, bro? don’t you think my jokes are… _moving?_ ”

 

“THAT’S IT!” Without any effort, Papyrus picked up the shorter skeleton and held him under one arm, grabbing a box with his free hand and shouting, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS KNOWS EXACTLY HOW TO GET YOU _MOVING_ , NYEH HEH HEH!”

 

You burst out laughing to see Sans’ lack of reaction—his eyes stayed closed and his smile was relaxed as Papyrus started jogging toward the apartment. _Is…is he asleep?_ you wondered delightedly. As if he’d read your thoughts, he cracked one eye open and gave you a lazy thumbs-up.

 

Undyne almost ran into Papyrus as she was coming out. She took one look and bellowed, “Oh, _what?_ You think you can carry him and _still_ beat me? Aw _hell_ no!”

 

Just as Alphys came up behind her, Undyne scooped her up and gave Papyrus a challenging grin, ignoring her wife’s startled yelp as she growled, “Us two are gonna _cream_ you bone bros!”

 

“NYEH, AN EASY CHALLENGE! I ACCEPT!!”

 

You continued to chuckle at their antics, but you couldn’t help feeling left out. You were reminded of these peoples’ long-standing friendship. They were so comfortable with each other, messing around and swapping inside jokes like it was the most natural thing in the world, but what about you? You were a newcomer. You could try and fit in all you wanted, but in the end, you were just a human.

 

Feeling a slight dampness on your mood, you grabbed a box and started walking past the joking group of monsters, not wanting to intrude. You’d give them their space. You wouldn’t be presumptuous.

 

“Hey, were d’you think you’re going?!”

 

You turned, startled at Undyne’s demanding voice. “I…I’m moving?”

 

“That can wait!” She gestured emphatically toward Alphys, who was still struggling feebly in her arm, and Sans, who might have truly fallen asleep at this point. “We _need_ you!”

 

You stared at her in dim confusion. “Y-you do?”

 

Undyne grinned. “’Course we do, we need a referee!”

 

“EXCELLENT IDEA! THE HUMAN CAN BEAR WITNESS TO THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ VICTORY!”

 

“Fat chance!” Undyne retorted.

 

You blinked a few times. “Uh, ok? Yeah, sure, yes, I can do that. Yes.” You stood still for a moment, not knowing what to do exactly. “…Should I…?”

 

“ _Time it, dork!_ ” Undyne laughed, her eye rolling.

 

“Right, got it, ok.” You rushed awkwardly to the moving van and said, “I guess…line up?”

 

Papyrus and Undyne immediately came over and dropped into runner’s crouches, each carrying a box in one arm and a monster in the other. You stood before them like one of those girls that wave the flag to start off racecars.

 

“We got this, babe!” Undyne was telling Alphys, who didn’t look nearly as confident.

 

“O-ok, but just, um, don’t drop me?”

 

Papyrus tightened his grip on Sans, eliciting a wheeze from the short skeleton while he declared, “FEAR NOT, BROTHER! I SHALL DEFEND OUR FAMILY’S HONOR!”

 

Sans was completely limp, one eye opened and trained on you. “hey ref, d’you take bribes?”

 

You giggled as Papyrus gave him a disapproving frown. Finally, you raised an arm and asked with the confidence of a shaking chihuahua, “Ready?”

 

“ _READY_!” Their simultaneous response made your ears ring.

 

“Ok, uh, three…two….one…” You dropped your arm. “Go!”

 

They shot off faster than humanly possible—which made sense—and blew past you on either side. The force of their passing made you spin and fall flat on your rear, drawing out a startled huff from you. Shocked, you stayed sitting on the sidewalk, watching as Undyne and Papyrus tore back out of the house, minus the boxes.

 

As soon as they saw you on the ground, they stopped, and you could see Sans’ eyes widened in concern. Papyrus set him down and asked, “ARE YOU ALRIGHT, HUMAN?”

 

Sans started to approach you. “you ok?”

 

Everyone looked surprised when you burst out laughing. You laughed so hard you rolled over on your side, clutching your middle and shutting your eyes against the tears. You laughed so hard that all four monsters didn’t know what to do with you. You laughed so hard that, eventually, they couldn’t help but join in.

 

“S-sorry, sorry, that was so…!” you gasped. “You _literally_ knocked me over! Like…like in a cartoon!”

 

“You spun, like, three times,” Alphys giggled.

 

“YOU DID LOOK QUITE SILLY SITTING ON THE GROUND LIKE THAT!”

 

“sorry pal,” Sans chuckled, reaching down to help you to your feet. “guess we got a little carried away. literally, in my case.”

 

“Wait!” Undyne put her hands out to quiet everyone and looked at you intently. “Who won then?!”

 

“Oh. Shoot, I don’t even know.” You shrugged, still smiling with mirth. “Whoops.”

 

The fish woman looked determined. “Then we’ll just have to go again!”

 

Alphys immediately put her claws up in protest and stammered, “C-could I maybe judge this time? I’m already feeling pretty dizzy…”

 

Undyne looked disappointed for a moment, before a grin erupted across her cheeks and she said, “That’s alright! I have another short nerd I can lug around!”

 

Before you could react, you were in the air and in her arms and lastly sitting on her shoulders, your head reeling from the suddenness. You blushed and desperately searched for something appropriate to hold onto. Her hair? Her neck? Her huge, expressive ears?

 

Clutching your legs, Undyne spun on Papyrus and declared, “It’s still on!”

 

The skeleton followed suit, easily lifting Sans to his own shoulders. You wondered if there was some kind of trance Sans went into when being carried, as he instantly slumped over his brother’s head and closed his eyes peacefully.

 

“Ready-set- _go_!” Undyne let out the rapid fire start and took off at a sprint. It was all you could do to wrap your arms around her head and hold on for dear life.

 

“BAD FORM!” Papyrus protested. You looked back to see him and Sans close on your heels. The short skeleton was bouncing erratically as they ran, but his face remained as sleepy as ever.

 

The combination of the speed and the strangeness and the ridiculous image of two stacked skeletons chasing you brought a wild, silly grin to your face. How was this happening? How were you riding on the shoulders of a monster woman you’d just met? How were all these people laughing with you and at you and how was it all so, so funny?

 

You and Undyne won the first race, leading Papyrus to demand a rematch. You continued to compete even after all the boxes had been transported, and even Sans mustered enough energy to laugh with you whenever you’d grin victoriously at Undyne taking the lead. Alphys seemed much happier as a referee, and was the perfect cheerleader for her wife. At one point, she went inside and emerged with an armful of soda, chips, and candy, suggesting that everyone take a break.

 

You all piled on the couch and floor in the living room, still sweating and laughing from the competition. You grabbed a soda and listened to the monsters chat, feeling infinitely more comfortable.

 

Papyrus stretched and cracked his bones, saying, “PHEW! THAT WAS QUITE EXHILHIRATING, I’M POOPED!”

 

“same.” Sans was stretched flat on the floor with his eyes closed.

 

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN DO ANYTHING!” Papyrus scolded. Shifting gears, he turned to Undyne and asked, “HAVE YOU FOUND A PLACE TO WORK YET?”

 

“Not yet,” she replied, tearing hungrily into a piece of jerky. “Alphys is gonna be the bread-winner until I can land something!”

 

“Y-you really don’t have to,” Alphys stuttered. “The schools pay me well, and we get free housing, and—”

 

“Psh, c’mon babe, I’m _getting_ a job,” she laughed, throwing an arm around her wife’s shoulders and pulling her close. “How else am I supposed to shower you with awesome presents?!”

 

You giggled at the pair. You’d been confused about their compatibility at first, but the more you observed the more you found yourself branding them as “Cutest Couple Ever.”

 

Undyne suddenly sat up straight and exclaimed, “All this junk food is crap, who else is actually hungry?!”

 

You raised your hand, clutching your stomach pathetically. The pho was the only thing you’d eaten all day, and even that you hadn’t been able to finish.

 

She grinned at you. “Well you’re in luck, nerd. The Queen of Monsters invited us over to her place tonight for dinner, and she’s pretty much the best cook in the world!”

 

Everyone’s mood immediately brightened at the news.

 

“HER MAJESTY IS COOKING FOR US? WOWIE, I HOPE SHE’S MAKING PIE!”

 

Sans snorted. “i think that’s a pretty safe bet, bro.”

 

You felt intimidated. “Wait…the Queen? The literal Queen?”

 

“W-well, not anymore,” Alphys explained. “Not since we came up here.”

 

Undyne was already heading toward the door. “And we’ll get to hang out with the kid, too, so let’s get moving!”

 

You all started heading toward a jeep you hadn’t noticed before—Undyne’s car, you presumed. You piled in while the monsters still chattered excitedly about the prospect of dinner with “the Queen.” Once again, you were sitting next to Sans, trying not to let the closeness get to you.

 

“Should I be worried?” you hissed to him under Papyrus and Undyne’s loud conversation.

 

“unless you’re freaked out by nice ladies who still can’t figure out how to send emails with attachments, no,” he chuckled. “don’t be nervous. she’ll love you, guaranteed.” He met your eyes with his last statement, causing you to face forward and try to consciously suppress your heartbeat for the rest of the drive.

 

You arrived at a small apartment building nestled near one of the city’s parks. You followed the excited group in and braced yourself for another introduction, but you were relieved to find that the social jitters you felt earlier were absent. The afternoon of raucous laughter must have put you at ease.

 

You’d been hanging back and walking with Sans, so the others had already reached one of the apartment doors and were knocking energetically.

 

“IT IS I, YOUR MAJESTY, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” the skeleton was calling. As an afterthought he quickly added, “AND ALSO UNDYNE AND ALPHYS AND SANS AND A VERY NICE HUMAN.”

 

You stood at the back of the group as a voice responded, “Come in, it is open!”

 

The inside was cozy, warm, and sweetly decorated. Everyone entered before you, with Undyne immediately shouting, “Where’s my little brat?!”

 

You chuckled at what you now recognized as her unique brand of affection, but when you saw the child peeling down the hall with a familiar grin plastered over their face, you went silent.

 

They noticed you, too, stopping just short of Undyne’s open arms and staring at you with wide, surprised, red eyes. They dodged expertly past the gathering monsters to stand before you, the shock melting away to be replaced with a delighted smile as their hands flicked in what you could only assume was your name. You still hadn’t fully processed anything when they threw their arms around you enthusiastically, but you managed to squeak, “Frisk?”

 

Everyone was staring at the two of you in confusion. Sans spoke up first, slowly asking, “you know each other…?”

 

“The casserole is almost done, everyone!” a sing-song voice rang from the kitchen. You knew exactly who would come out, even before she stepped into the living room with her long ears held away from her face with a kerchief and a smile spread out from her fangs. “And there will be butterscotch pie ready for dess—” She interrupted herself with a gasp, placing a hand over her mouth and meeting your eyes.

 

Papyrus was looking between the three of you in confusion, narrowing his eyes as if he was solving a puzzle. “CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN WHAT’S GOING ON HERE??”

 

Frisk grinned back at everyone and let go of you to sign something, which Sans automatically translated: “this is naya, and she’s here because i invited her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and to the surprise of no one! more surprises


	9. Tori's pretty HOT in this one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for all the kind comments and support! Ya'll are the best!
> 
> Here's a lil bit of art from me, feat. the reader from my favorite fic COBC by totalskeletontrash: http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/139099271289/my-reader-naya-hangin-with-totalskeletontrashs

Toriel’s surprise melted into a delighted smile. She clapped her hands together and trilled, “What a treat it is to have you, Anaya! Is this the surprise you mentioned, my child?”

 

Frisk gave a proud nod and took a step back to link their arm through yours.

 

“What?!” Undyne’s indignant voice rang out. “Naya came with us though?!”

 

Toriel’s smile stiffened a bit. She looked around, noticing for the first time the confusion on her guests’ faces. “What do you…? You mean…you all know Anaya?” she breathed. “How…?”

 

Frisk was the only unphased person. They were looking at everyone like they were missing the point, signing something and then gesturing pointedly at you.

 

“Th-they’re still saying they invited you?” Alphys translated.

 

Your jaw was stiff with shock, but you looked at Frisk and shook your head feebly. “You...you told me you’d have me over, but you didn’t say—”

 

Frisk waved their hands in a clear “no,” reached into their pocket, and pulled out their phone, which they pointed at firmly.

 

You blinked. “Uh.”

 

“they texted you.” Sans’ voice was flat. “apparently.”

 

You rummaged in your pocket, mumbling, “But you don’t even have my…”

 

***This is Frisk, the Very Cool Ambassador! You should come over tonight, Mom’s making pie!!! :D**

***Here’s my address: ---**

You gave them a numb look as Papyrus commented, “WOWIE, HUMAN, YOU’RE NOT VERY GOOD AT CHECKING YOUR PHONE.”

 

“How did you even get my number?”

 

They signed smugly, while Sans supplied, “uh, i guess they got it from your coworker?”

 

You groaned. He gave out your number? Without asking? _Hoo boy, he’s gonna get an earful the next time I see him._ “But…Frisk, I didn’t see this, I’m really here with them. You all…” You felt yourself shrinking. “Do, uh, all monsters just know each other…?”

 

There were a few beats of pointed silence, with everyone staring at you blankly. A nervous flush warmed your face. “I mean, o-oh god, sorry, w-was that racist? Sp…specist…? That was specist wasn’t it, oh man, I’m—”

 

Laughter suddenly filled the room, with you at the center. _Yup,_ you thought. _There it is. Now they know how much of an ignorant moron you are._ You hid your face behind a curtain of hair, ashamed and embarrassed, but soon there was a soft, comforting paw on your shoulder. You looked up at Toriel’s face. She was smiling with the gentlest sort of humor, and you could feel your panic dwindle as she reassured, “No, no, dear, we are sorry for laughing, but…” She suddenly snorted ungracefully. “Well, we _do_ all know each other! Is it not a bit silly?”

 

“Yeah!” Undyne cackled in agreement. “Even after all this time, we’re still hanging out with the same old losers!”

 

“I mean, it makes sense. We were all stuck together for several centuries,” Alphys mused.

 

“WE ARE _STILL_ STUCK TOGETHER!” Papyrus spread his gangly arms to gather Toriel, Undyne and Alphys in a hug. “FOREVER BONDED BY THE GLUE OF FRIENDSHIP!!”

 

You let out a few hoarse laughs of relief as the monsters struggled against the skeleton’s embrace. This wasn’t the outcome you were expecting. Beside you, Sans chuckled. The last of your misgivings were washed away when he winked at you and drawled, “gee, didn’t realize you’d been rubbing elbows with royalty.” His lazy gaze slid to Toriel. “think you could get me an autograph?”

 

A sharp whistle suddenly shut everyone up. You turned to Frisk, who had their fingers in their mouth and a frustrated angle to their eyebrows. They folded their arms with a stomp, and then signed what you were sure was a protest.

 

“s’not our fault we stole your thunder,” Sans snorted.

 

Toriel’s smile was both sympathetic and amused. “It was a very nice thought, my child, thank you! You provided…erm…insurance!”

 

Frisk didn’t look convinced, but Papyrus chipped in, “THAT’S RIGHT! IF SHE HADN’T COME IN OUR COMPANY, SHE WOULD HAVE COME AS YOUR GUEST. EITHER WAY WE WOULD HAVE BEEN GIFTED WITH HER PRESENCE!!”

 

Your blush returned with a vengeance. You’d worried you were an intruder, but Papyrus and Toriel and everyone seemed so happy to be with you.

 

Frisk was still pouting a bit, but they finally nodded and gave a few signs that Alphys translated as, “Th-they say they just get to sit by you, Naya.”

 

You giggled as the teen nodded resolutely and grasped your arm, leading you to the dining room.

 

“How do you guys even know each other?” Undyne was demanding. All the monsters were following you and Frisk and taking their places at the table. You felt a prick of disappointment when Papyrus sat down on your other side, leaving Sans to sit across from you.

 

On her way back to the kitchen, Toriel answered, “We work at the same school!”

 

“SCHOOL??” Papyrus gave you an odd look. “SANS TOLD ME YOU WORK AT A RESTAURANT. _TWO_ RESTAURANTS, IN FACT!!”

 

Sans shrugged. “only told you what i know, bro.”

 

Your eyes snapped to the skeleton across from you. _He told his brother about me?_ you thought disbelievingly. _With details?_ Sans was sipping from a bottle of ketchup Toriel had astutely set out for him, but he met your look with another wink.

 

You avoided that look and ignored your quickened pulse as you said, “I have three jobs, actually.”

 

Everyone except Sans looked shocked and fascinated. You told them about how you met Sans by working next door to his diner, fudging the details a little to leave out your true introduction in the haunted house—describing your panic attack didn’t seem like the best conversation topic. You shared a glance with Sans that let you know he understood.

 

“And then I met Frisk and Toriel earlier this week,” you finished.

 

“Damn, so you really did just happen to meet both of ‘em!” Undyne said in awe.

 

“That is a pretty crazy coincidence,” her wife agreed.

 

Beside you, Frisk looked like they wanted to sign something, but they bit their lip and sat on their hands, giving you a pointed look. You shook your head questioningly, to which they responded by nodding toward the dining room entrance.

 

“Dinner is served!” Toriel was stepping in with a large tray in her oven mitts, holding several steaming dishes and pots.

 

The conversation was forgotten as everyone tore in. As soon as the group was distracted, Frisk tapped your arm urgently and slid you a note under the table, which read, **Mom still doesn’t know you showed me your special power. It’s our secret!!**

You gave them a tiny nod. You weren’t planning on bringing up your synesthesia anyway. If Toriel had reacted so strangely, you didn’t want to know how the other monsters would feel about it.

 

The meal was incredible. It had been so long since you’d had a home cooked dinner, and even the best meal you could remember didn’t compare to this. And it wasn’t just the flavor—as you ate, you could feel your mood getting better and better, and a swell of energy built up more with every bite. Everyone was enjoying it just as much as you; even Sans had taken several bites of his food, though he still clearly favored the ketchup.

 

“This is incredible!” you gushed at one point. “I really think this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted, no joke.”

 

“First time eating monster food?” Undyne chortled, tearing at a fried drumstick.

 

You blinked. “Uh, I guess? Is it any different?”

 

“It is not quite like the food from our home,” Toriel explained, looking humble but pleased, “but it is still made with a touch of magic!”

 

Your eyes widened as you looked at your plate with more appreciation. “Woah. Is that why I feel…I don’t know, perky?”

 

The queen nodded sweetly. “That would be the healing magic, yes! I know you must be tired from working so diligently, so please, eat up!”

 

The whole dinner was full of funny jokes and light conversation. The more you ate and the more you chatted, the more you finally started to feel like you belonged. Toriel was so friendly and hospitable, you didn’t even think of the awkward reaction she’d had to your “power.” Frisk walked through the signs with you whenever they spoke, Papyrus continued hounding you about different types of pasta, and Undyne and Alphys inquired about which anime series you’d watched. Every now and then, you’d glance across the table at Sans, and every now and then, you’d catch him watching you, too.

 

When it was time to clean up for dessert, you offered to help carry dishes back into the kitchen with Toriel.

 

“Thanks again for dinner,” you said as you set plates in the sink. “I know I kinda showed up out of the blue…”

 

“Anaya, it truly is a pleasure,” Toriel laughed before you could start an apology. “Frisk and I would be thrilled to have you here anytime!”

 

You smiled in appreciation. You started rinsing off dishes when you noticed a raw pie sitting on the stove, and glancing at the oven told you it hadn’t even been turned on.

 

“O-oh, uh, do you need me to preheat the oven or anything?” you asked uncertainly. You weren’t much of a baker, but you knew pies could take a while to cook.

 

Toriel took on a strange glint in her eyes as she shook her head. “There is no need, dear. I do not use that old thing too often anyway.”

 

Your curiosity sparked. “Then how do you…?”

 

She smiled, placing one claw to her snout and instructing, “Watch.” She marched over to the stove, arranged the pie on a burner, and stood back. Taking a deep breath, she puffed out her cheeks and clenched her fists, and then opened her jaws to release a roaring jet of violet flames. You leapt back in shock as the heat rushed over you. She continued to spew fire over the pastry, suddenly looking more like a dragon than a goat, until she snapped her mouth shut and flashed you a somewhat smug smile.

 

Slack-jawed, you stepped over to look at the pie. It was perfect, glistening and steaming as if it hadn’t been raw just seconds ago. You looked numbly up at Toriel, seeing her in a whole new and fiery light.

 

“The magic is in the method,” she chirped, obviously proud of herself.

 

Forgetting your manners, you breathed, “Holy shit.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

Your newfound respect for the monster only grew as you followed her back into the dining room. You’d known she was kind and motherly and friendly as could be, but you hadn’t realized she was so… _cool_.

 

Everyone cheered at the sight of the pie, and even though you didn’t think you could eat anymore after such a big meal, you were all going to make room.

 

* * *

 

 

You felt fuller than you’d been in years, sitting in Toriel’s living room listening to the monsters’ small talk.

 

“Was the move alright?” Toriel was asking Undyne and Alphys. “We wanted to help, but Frisk had quite a bit of homework that needed finishing.” She gave her child a firm look, which they very pointedly ignored.

 

“IT’S ALRIGHT, YOUR MAJESTY!” Papyrus answered for his friends. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS WAS ASSISTANCE ENOUGH!”

 

“I helped too,” you added.

 

“YES, NAYA WAS A GREAT ASSET!”

 

From the seat next to Toriel, Sans raised a lazy hand and said, “yeah. i moved a _ton_ of junk.”

 

Papyrus scowled down at his brother. “LIES AND FALSEHOODS! YOU DID NOT MOVE A _TON_ OF ANYTHING!!”

 

Everyone could feel the horrible joke Sans was about to make, but the ex-queen beat him to it. “Snrk…would you say it was a…skele- _ton?_ ”

 

The two burst out laughing as the other monsters groaned. Undyne bellowed, “Are you even capable of going _one day_ without making that joke?! I mean, don’t you do this for a living?!”

 

He shrugged, still grinning at Toriel. “the humans love it. lands every time.”

 

He wasn’t wrong, as you were still giggling into your hand at the pun.

 

“Could you say that they find it…” Toriel’s face was scrunched with mirth.

 

Frisk shook their head emphatically, and Papyrus cried, “NO MY QUEEN, DON’T—”

 

“ _Humerus?_ ”

 

Your giggles erupted into guffaws while everyone else practically screamed in disgust. Undyne jumped to her feet, grabbed Alphys’ hand and barked, “Nope, no, that’s it, we’re _leaving_!”

 

“H-honey, it’s not that—”

 

The fish woman pointed a furious finger at Sans and Toriel, who were completely unapologetic. “No, that is the _last time_ I put up with these _stupid skeleton jokes!_ ”

 

As she was dragged away, Alphys called, “Thanks again, Toriel, I-I guess we’ll see you around?”

 

Even though their departure was sudden and angry, you got the feeling it wasn’t abnormal, as the remaining group didn’t seem at all offended.

 

“SHE HAS THE RIGHT IDEA,” Papyrus grumbled.

 

Frisk nodded, signing something with a sullen frown.

 

Toriel elbowed Sans and said, “Perhaps we should give them a break.”

 

“’s long as it’s not a _bone_ , i think we’ll be in good shape.” He trained an evil smile on Frisk, who rushed over immediately to punch him in the arm. “man, you raised one tough crowd, tori,” he chuckled, while the goat monster tried her best to frown disapprovingly at her child.

 

“Hey Frisk, can you show me where the bathroom is?” you asked, struggling not to laugh. When they came closer you hissed, “If your mom keeps telling jokes, I’m gonna pee my pants.”

 

They grinned and nodded, taking your hand to lead you down the hall.

 

You could still hear everyone laughing from the bathroom, and as you washed your hands, you gave your reflection a content smile. Maybe this could last. Maybe you could actually make friends, friends who could relate to you regardless of your species.

 

 _Well,_ you amended. _It can last until I decide to leave._ Your smile tightened a bit. Earlier, you’d remembered how familiar it felt to move. You moved so often that it hadn’t become a matter of “if” so much as “when.” Even now, when you had spent longer in this city than any other, you were constantly wondering in the back of your mind, _Where am I gonna run next?_

 

You shook your head and frowned. This had been a good night. One of the best in recent memory, in fact. You weren’t going to let old, sad habits ruin that for you.

 

The bathroom was at the very end of the hall, so as you walked back you glanced absently through each open door you passed. You saw what you assumed was Toriel’s room, with unpacked boxes sitting next to a desk cluttered with ungraded papers and children’s drawings. Just before the living room, you stopped to inspect the final room: Frisk’s bedroom. Eclectic posters covered the walls; countless pairs of shoes were tumbling from the closet; and action figures were lined up carefully on the windowsill.

 

You were about to move on, when you saw a shadow dart through the corner of your vision. Your eyes snapped back to the room. Suddenly feeling nervous, you stuck your head a bit deeper inside, took a step in, and finally walked fully through the door, searching the dim room for any flash of movement.

 

Nothing. After another moment of squinting, you shrugged and turned to exit.

 

“Howdy!”

 

You gasped and whipped around again. There was no one there, but the voice had been so distinct, so close. You couldn’t have imagined it.

 

“Over here, silly!”

 

Your eyes started to adjust as they flitted over the room. Nothing by the window. Nothing in the closet. Nothing on the bed. But on the bedside table…

 

A flower with giant yellow petals smiling sweetly from its ceramic pot. You blinked in disbelief as it giggled, “There you go!”

 

Normally you’d freak out, but you’d seen enough strangeness that day that a talking flower seemed at least somewhat plausible. “Oh,” you started stiffly. “Hello. Um, sorry but…are you a monster…?”

 

“Do I look like a monster?” it responded playfully.

 

Something about its voice tweaked a nerve deep in the back of your mind. You felt something cautious twist in your stomach as you forced a smile, saying, “Ha, uh, not really. I guess.”

 

It bobbed its petals from side to side. Its face was so strange, like a flat, cartoonish drawing. “What’s your name, new friend?”

 

You didn’t want to tell it. You knew you shouldn’t tell it. The caution moved from your stomach to your chest. There was something new yet familiar causing your heart to beat harder. Stronger. Something that saw that flower and immediately thought: _Danger._

 

“It’s Naya.”

 

“Wow, what a pretty name!”

 

 _It’s just a flower. It’s probably just a weird monster, or…or some kind of monster pet,_ you told yourself. _So why do I feel so uneasy?_

 

Your smile was forced as you asked, “Do _you_ have a name?”

 

The flower’s grin widened, like it had been waiting for you to say that. “Name’s Flowey!” it chirped. “Flowey the flower!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole skeleton puns bit was supposed to represent the fact that I'mma try my best not to use tired jokes, that's the only time you'll see them |D


	10. First Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie zowie, TEN CHAPTERS! That's more than I've written in years! Thanks so much for all the support you crazy kids, it means the world to me! :D

You didn’t even know where the suspicion was coming from. From a rational standpoint, Flowey hadn’t done anything threatening. But it wasn’t “threatening” you were sensing. It was some kind of absence. A wrongness. You put a hand over your chest, where that strange feeling was tightening, pulsing…preparing?

 

“You feeling alright, buddy?” Flowey asked with concern. “You look a little tense!”

 

“Yeah. Sorry.” You struggled to relax. It wasn’t hurting you, it wasn’t hurting anyone, yet the feeling in your ribs was still telling you to run. “I’ve just never met a…a talking flower.”

 

You heard another round of laughter from the living room. Flowey tilted its head toward the noise, its smile widening. “They sure sound like they’re having fun in there!”

 

“We…er, they are.” You wanted to rush out and join them. Nothing about this exchange felt right. “Why aren’t you—”

 

“Are they playing games?”

 

“I don’t know…”

 

“Boy, I sure do love games!” It looked almost wistful as it sighed, “I wonder, if I asked _reeeal nice,_ would they let me out to play?”

 

You swallowed. “H-hey, I was just thinking, I’m…not actually supposed to be in here? In, uh, Frisk’s room? So I’ll just—”

 

The door suddenly shut behind you. You snapped around and saw what looked like a few white petals fall to the ground and dissipate. You didn’t bother to hide your fear as you turned back to the happy flower, which was bobbing and grinning as usual.

 

“Aw, come on, friend!” it laughed. “We haven’t even gotten to know each other yet!”

 

Your heart—no, your…something else—was pounding stronger than ever. “How’d…how did you do that.”

 

Flowey tilted its face quizzically. “Oh, that? I just used these!” It winked, stuck its tongue out teasingly, and summoned a few more of the strange white flakes. “I use these lil’ guys to play _my_ games! So! What kinda games do _you_ like?”

 

You were so nervous, you couldn’t focus on the thumping against your ribs, like something slamming into a locked door over and over. “I-I really shouldn’t be here,” you stuttered. “Can I—”

 

“I know! How ‘bout a question game?” The petals drifted lazily around its head, forming a ring. “Let’s see. What’s yourrr…favorite color?”

 

You didn’t answer. Your eyes were trained on those floating petals. They were too white, too bright in this shadowy room. The something in your chest was getting more and more frantic.

 

“Here, I’ll go first! My favorite color is…”

 

The petals suddenly froze and flipped their pointed ends toward you. Flowey’s face distorted into a grotesque sneer, its eyes empty and crinkled with dark pleasure. Your throat closed from shock. You almost stumbled over the bed as you took a shaky step back. The pounding in your chest was one slam away from busting open that locked door.

 

“ _RED._ ”

 

“H e y.”

 

The petals dissolved as you and Flowey jumped at the low, menacing voice. Sans stood in the doorway with a grin, but it wasn’t like any expression you’d seen on him. The lights of his pupils were gone from his endlessly black eye sockets; his head was tilted too casually to be believed; and his smile was so tight and wide you were worried his cheekbones would crack from the strain.

 

You could feel his eye sockets on you. They darted over you, quickly and intently, looking at every part of you before his grin relaxed a fraction. A pupil returned in one eye as he winked the other and turned to Flowey, rumbling, “heh. having fun in here?”

 

The flower’s face went from surprised to terrified in an instant. It seemed to shrink as it began, “L-look, funny-bones, I wasn’t—”

 

It shut up when Frisk suddenly pushed past Sans, their red eyes wide and concerned. The moment they entered the room, you felt a change in the air. The wrongness was sapped. The pounding stopped. Sans went from stiff to slouching as he stepped aside for the kid; Flowey’s expression became chagrinned; and you were finally able to breathe.

 

Frisk studied your face worriedly for a moment before turning on the flower. They scowled and gave a few small but poignant signs.

 

Flowey wilted, but managed to get defensive. “I-I wasn’t gonna hurt them, jeez. It was a joke! Can’t anyone take a joke around here?”

 

Your confusion grew while Frisk signed a reply. The flower was looking increasingly uncomfortable as their hands shifted and spoke.

 

“guess he was grounded.” Sans’ voice was right by your ear, making you jump. You hadn’t even noticed him come up beside you. The intimidating darkness was gone, leaving him looking mildly annoyed. He continued to translate, “said something to tori.” Frisk signed; Sans winced. “yikes. you called her that and all she did was _ground you_? i say you got off easy.”

 

You were still staring at the skeleton, trying to process the wild shifts in mood, as the flower retorted, “She started it! She called me a _bad influence_ when all I was doing was helping Frisk with their homework and—”

 

Frisk cut him off with a few exasperated words.

 

Sans snorted. “heh. dunno if i’d call ‘convincing-them-to-cheat’ helping.”

 

“S…so?! What does it matter if they cheat or not? Nobody has to know!” Flowey tried looking at Frisk for reassurance, but the teen just shook their head in disappointment. Helplessly, the flower snapped, “This…this is so stupid! You’re all so _stupid_! Sitting in there, laughing, stuffing your faces, and then as soon as I _try_ to have a little _fun_ you just—”

 

Frisk gave him a silencing look. He bowed his head a bit, but still looked grouchy. He was avoiding their eyes as well as yours, instead focusing on glaring at Sans, who didn’t seem to care. His frown deepened when Frisk said something while pointing at you.

 

“yeah,” Sans drawled, obviously enjoying the flower’s discomfort. “apologize.” He and Frisk turned to you expectantly, but Flowey refused to follow suit.

 

You blinked. “…Wait.” You were squinting at the three of them. “I’m…confused.”

 

Frisk gestured to the flower and made a few signs, looking at Sans to translate.

 

“this is flowey. he’s a little shit.”

 

Frisk scowled and punched the skeleton’s arm.

 

“ouch. heh, just kidding. he’s, uh, the kid’s best friend.”

 

They nodded in approval, but you noticed they looked a tad embarrassed about that fact. Flowey must have noticed, too, as he turned further away to pout. They continued with a sigh, Sans supplying, “he’s just grumpy ‘cuz he didn’t get to hang out with us. also ‘cuz he’s a sadistic motherfu—ow.” The skeleton flinched away from Frisk’s fist. “whoops. translation error. anyway, he’s sorry he scared you and it won’t happen again.”

 

Frisk folded their arms and glared pointedly at the flower, making a clear “go on” motion.

 

“better do what they say, bucko. or do you want tori hearing about this little…misunderstanding?” There was that darkness again. Even you felt a twinge of unease when you saw Sans’ empty-eyed smile burn into the flower.

 

“Ok, ok, fine!” Flowey heaved a dramatic sigh, turned to you, and grumbled, “I’m…ugh, sorry.”

 

“Uh, thanks? That’s—”

 

“Sorry your friends are such _idiots_!”

 

Frisk did a face-palm and Sans groaned in exasperation while Flowey cackled. You deflated. Watching the flower wave and blow raspberries and act generally obnoxious made you ask yourself, _How was I scared of this thing?_

Shaking their head, Frisk took your hand and started leading you out, with Sans following at your side. The sound of Flowey laughing was muffled when they closed the door.

 

“Well that was…” you started slowly. “…Weird.”

 

“you still sure about being friends with us?” Sans chuckled. Were you imagining the worry laced in his breezy tone? You even thought you felt Frisk’s fingers tighten a bit around yours.

 

“Of course not!” you quickly replied. “I just didn’t realize crazy talking flowers would be part of the bargain. But it’s cool. Totally cool.”

 

Sans was still looking at you doubtfully when you rejoined Papyrus and Toriel.

 

“GEE, YOU SURE TOOK A WHILE IN THERE. I STILL DON’T UNDERSTAND HUMANS’ FASCINATION WITH BATHROOMS!”

 

“Is everything all right, dears?” Toriel’s tone betrayed her concern. Her eyes darted between Sans and Frisk, but she wore a smile for your sake. “My child, were you showing Anaya your, ah, shoe collection?”

 

“yup. just _shoe_ -ing her the kid’s room.” Sans ruffled Frisk’s hair affectionately, his face betraying nothing.

 

Frisk nodded cheerfully, but they still hadn’t let go of your hand. You wanted to reassure them somehow.

 

A mischievous smile crept over your cheeks. “Y’know, I was pretty impressed by all those shoes, Frisk,” you added. “They were so… _sole_ -ful.”

 

You laughed as they ripped their hand from yours, their face twisted in betrayal. Toriel and Sans looked delighted, while Papyrus jumped to his feet and shrieked, “UNBELIEVABLE! I WOULD EXPECT SUCH TREACHERY FROM MY BROTHER, BUT FROM _YOU_ , NAYA? IS NOWHERE SAFE FROM YOU PEOPLE??”

 

Sans looked almost emotional in his pride as he raised his hand for a high five. You reciprocated, grinning at Toriel as she clapped and giggled, “Hee hee, that was quite clever, Anaya, I am impressed!”

 

Frisk had been writing something. They shoved the note in your face and you read in bold, angry letters: **_NOT YOU TOO._** They were doing their very best to look affronted, but you could see the grin threatening to crack.

 

Everyone started slowly making their way to the door. You, Toriel, and Sans continued teasing Frisk and Papyrus up until you were saying your goodbyes.

 

“It was wonderful to see you, Anaya,” Toriel beamed. “A truly happy coincidence!”

 

“I, TOO, AM VERY GLAD TO HAVE MET YOU! EVEN IF YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR LEAVES MUCH, _MUCH_ TO BE DESIRED!”

 

“It was good to meet you too, Papyrus!” you giggled. “And seriously, thanks for everything, Toriel, you guys are awesome.” You gave Frisk a meaningful smile. “I had a great time.”

 

The teen looked relieved. They jumped forward to give you an energetic hug. You were passed from their arms to Toriel’s huge, warm embrace before you waved a final farewell and stepped outside.

 

“WELL, IT HAS BEEN AN EXCITING DAY, BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS MORE THAN READY FOR BED.” After wrapping you in a sleepy hug, he stretched, yawned, and, to your surprise, trudged to the next-door apartment.

 

“i’mma walk Naya home. don’t wait up.”

 

You tensed and blushed, glancing at Sans out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t even have to ask.

 

“VERY WELL, I WILL READ MY OWN BEDTIME STORY. GOODNIGHT, NAYA!”

 

“You live here, too?” you asked once Papyrus was inside.

 

“yup. there were two empty units, and paps always likes being close to the kid.” He shrugged. “that’s usually how it goes.”

 

You made it to the sidewalk. It was getting late, but the streetlamps were lit and the roads were still busy. “I’d probably be safe going alone, if you don’t wanna…”

 

He chuckled and started walking.

 

 _Oh._ Your heart gave a little stutter. _Alrighty then._

You were quiet for a few moments, trying to think of something to say now that you were alone. “So then, uh…you guys all just moved, right?”

 

“yup. maybe a week or two ago.”

 

“Why here?”

 

“well, frisk and tori have this deal going on, and—”

 

“The exchange student thing?”

 

He grinned. “heh. yeah. keep forgetting, you’ve already met the kid. weird. anyway, they’re the ambassador, right? well, paps is a sort of co-ambassador. he’s there to show how cool monsters are. they even do speeches together. it’s great. so wherever frisk goes, paps goes, too.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“paps sticks with frisk, and i stick with paps.” He smiled back at the way you came. “and tori and the kid aren’t so bad to hang with, either.”

 

“Are Undyne and Alphys in on the ambassador thing?”

 

“nah, but alphys travels a lot for her job. spends every semester at a different university. so it just works out for them to follow us.”

 

“So you guys are just…always together,” you breathed. “Wow.” You felt a pang of jealousy. You thought moving so much meant you had to forfeit friends, but they were cheating the system. They had each other no matter where they went.

 

“how ‘bout you?”

 

The question caught you off guard. “M-me?”

 

He glanced at you, his pupils illuminating the edges of his eye sockets. “you haven’t been here long, right? and you said you move a lot.”

 

“Y-yeah, I mean…yeah. I do.” You weren’t ready to get into this. You ducked behind your hair, twirling a lock in one hand. The scar on your forehead itched. “I guess…I’m kind of a nomad.”

 

“a what?”

 

“A nomad?” You peeked at him through your hair. The excuse wasn’t a complete lie. “Like, someone who wanders from place to place? Always travels, doesn’t settle down, no real home to go back to.”

 

“huh.” He looked thoughtful. “guess we didn’t really need that word. wasn’t anywhere to wander.”

 

“Ah…right.”

 

A few moments of quiet passed. You were relieved he wasn’t pushing the matter, but you tensed when he said, “hey, listen.”

 

_No more questions, no more questions, please no more questions…_

“about flowey.”

 

 _Oh. Right_.

 

Sans scratched the back of his skull, looking abashed. “i, uh, shoulda warned you about him. before we got there. he can be pretty…”

 

“Thorny?” you supplied with a snort.

 

“good one,” he chuckled. “i was gonna say ‘unpredictable.’”

 

“That too.”

 

“but yeah. sorry you had to deal with him. he’s a sick little fucker, but frisk keeps him in check, so he’s usually harmless.” His face darkened. “usually.”

 

You swallowed, remembering his twisted grin and unnaturally-bright petals. “What…what _is_ he anyway? Is he a monster?”

 

Sans shook his head. “he’s…uh…heh. he’s something else, definitely not a monster. not a person.” His tone took on a serious edge as he continued, “not something you wanna mess with.”

 

A chill passed over you. It was weird to see this side of Sans, a complete one-eighty from who you’d come to recognize. Your voice was soft as you asked, “Are Frisk and Toriel safe? With him in the house?”

 

“oh yeah. like I said, he doesn’t start shit when frisk’s around. And tori can take care of herself.” He chuckled. “boy, can she.”

 

You recalled the image of a dragon-esque Toriel incinerating her pie with ease, and your worries were put to rest. “But why does Frisk have him in the first place?”

 

Sans was silent for a moment before starting, “heh. that’s, uh, kind of a lot to get into. but i can tell you this much: flowey caused a lot of trouble for a lot of people back home. nobody wanted to bring him with us when we came up, and at first he got left behind, but…”

 

You thought of Frisk’s accepting, loving smile, and the way they’d instantly befriended every student at their new school. “But Frisk wasn’t giving up on him.”

 

“bingo. they went back. back under the mountain. scared the hell out of us when they went missing, and we weren’t too thrilled when they came back with him in a pot. we tried to convince them to leave it alone—even _he_ didn’t seem thrilled to be topside—but if there’s one thing i know about frisk…” He grinned fondly. “…when they’re determined to do something, they’re gonna do it. no matter what.”

 

Soon you reached your apartment building, but instead of dropping you off at the bottom of the stairs, Sans naturally followed you up.

 

“but yeah. hope he didn’t kill your mood too bad. wouldn’t want our buddy-ship _pushing up daisies_ ,” he chuckled as you climbed.

 

Once again, you thought you heard a touch of worry under his words. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he was afraid you wouldn’t want to stay friends. That was supposed to be your job.

 

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Buddy-ship?”

 

“buddy-ship. friend-barge. pal-canoe.” He stopped at your door and grinned. “i’m captain of the s.s. chums.”

 

You laughed and leaned against the landing’s railing, quipping, “Can I be first mate?”

 

He seemed surprised. The blue glow crept over his cheekbones as the lights of his eyes shone a bit brighter. His voice was low when he replied, “hell yeah you can.”

 

You froze. You stared at each other in silence for a moment. Your face burned as you realized several things at once: He was blocking your way inside; you hadn’t even reached for your keys; your mouth was dry; your heart was fluttering; his voice gave you chills; his eyes kept you transfixed; and you knew exactly what he was doing to you. You knew this feeling. You’d known since you met him. The beginning of something you hadn’t allowed in so, so long.

 

Sans was still watching you. The night needed an ending, some kind of punctuation. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. Why were you so bad at this?

 

You almost jumped when he opened his arms, gave a crooked smile and chuckled, “everyone else got one, so…heh.”

 

You only hesitated for a breath before closing the distance. Your arms went high and his went low. Through the front of his jacket you could feel his soft, blue, buzzing body, but your hands could feel the sharpness of his spine against the back. The fur of his hood tickled your nose, carrying the scent of a cold winter morning and sweet tomatoes. It was a weird and wonderful combination.

 

You could feel the disappointment down to your bones when you pulled away. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face. “H-ha, uh, well,” you rasped, backing up to your door. “Thanks for, um, w-walking me, and for…y’know…just, being cool?” You turned and fumbled with your keys, your pulse practically deafening.

 

“hey.”

 

You were helpless to that voice. You turned, finally meeting his eyes and feeling your heart melt at how bright and earnest they were and god _dammit_ , you knew, you knew that you were already so far gone, and all you could do was squeak, “Yeah, Sans?”

 

“see you soon.” He flashed that grin, that irresistible grin. “first mate.”

 

He left you there, with your knees buckling and your breath hitching and you thought to yourself, _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._ Your head fell back against the still-unopened door. _Calling this a ‘crush’ would be putting it lightly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first HUG. these nerds.


	11. Politically Incorrect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update cuz I freaking love you dudes

“knock knock.”

 

“Who’s there?”

 

“howdy.”

 

“Howdy who?”

 

“howdy’d I do?”

 

You smirked at Sans over the bar. “Honestly? I thought the rubber-band gag was a bit of a… _stretch_.”

 

“oh my god.”

 

You burst into utterly unattractive chortles. You’d been working on that one since his set began, and you were proud of it.

 

Sans was shaking his head and looking shamefully into his bottle of ketchup. “damn. that was too good. you really showed me up. i’m finished. i’m a sham.”

 

The ensuing round of laughter drew raised eyebrows from some other patrons. You covered your grin and tried to look like you weren’t goofing off.

 

Chuckling, Sans downed the ketchup, stood, and said, “as fun as it is to keep you from doing your job, i gotta run home real quick.” He grinned. “be back at two?”

 

You blushed that blush you were starting to accept as normal as you replied, “Sounds temperate.” Your chest swelled to see him laughing at the joke even as he was walking away.

 

In the week since you’d had dinner with everyone, you had found it easy to fall into a routine. Every day at the elementary school, Toriel and Frisk would join you at your bench for lunch, where you’d chat and make bad jokes and practice signing. You spent your breaks from your waitress job hanging out with Sans in the alleyway, and when he performed at the comedy club, you’d find him waiting outside to walk you home at the end of your shift. It had become comfortable. You were starting to think of them as your friends without worrying if they felt the same.

 

For the first time in years, you were enjoying your life.

 

"Hi there."

 

You glanced up, unsure if the greeting was directed at you. Across the bar smiled a young man in a nice suit who looked several drinks in, and his drooping eyes were trained your way.

 

"Evening, sir!" you responded, applying your customer-service voice. "Can I get you a drink?"

 

"Gin and tonic."

 

"Coming right up!" You turned to alert one of the actual bartenders, but he was still staring at you, his smile smooshed by the hand supporting his head. You smiled back politely. Once your coworker got to mixing his drink, you started to move away, but he leaned forward and put a hand on the counter closest to you.

 

"So what's your name, sweetheart?"

 

You tensed a bit and suppressed a groan. Oh good. He was going to flirt with you. Trying to look both professional and non-receptive, you answered, "It's Anaya, sir."

 

"Anaya, mm? Sounds exotic." His eyes flitted up and down your body as his grin widened.

 

You shuddered and dropped the smile, politeness waning. "Is there anything else I can get you, sir?"

 

"’Sir’ is so impersonal," he scoffed with a loose wave. "It's Cody." He put on a look that he must've thought was charming as he added, "Wanna know more?"

 

Wordlessly, you turned and went further down the bar. You wouldn't put up with this. So many of your coworkers were masters at being just flirtatious enough to get tips, or even standing up to customers who overstepped their bounds, but you weren't. You'd just get uncomfortable. His laughter followed you as you tried to make yourself busy doing anything else. You even heard him call, "Hard to get, huh?"

 

You hated him for souring your mood. You did your best to ignore him for the rest of your shift, but he wasn't leaving. He slowly nursed his drinks and winked at you any time you were forced to pass him. He was subtle enough not to draw attention, but still painfully obvious to your eyes.

 

The end of your shift was nearing, but Cody hadn't left. Your heart actually sunk when your manager told you to clock out while he was within earshot. You hoped it was just coincidence that it was only then he decided to pay his tab.

 

Nope. Not coincidence. When you emerged from the break room with your jacket and purse, he was waiting by the door with a cocky grin.

 

"Thought you'd seen the last of me, huh?" he laughed.

 

“Ha, well, I _am_ off the clock, so…” Did he think this made him attractive? All you could do was smile awkwardly and try to walk around him. You hated that you didn’t have the nerve to tell him off directly.

 

He let you go out the door, but he was right there with you. “Aw, c’mon, you know I’m just messing with you! First thing to know about me: I like to tease.”

 

You started up the stairs, but he had somehow gotten ahead of you and was once again blocking your way. You avoided his eyes and frowned. You felt sick with discomfort.

 

“C’mon. I’m joking, alright?” Cody craned his neck so you couldn’t avoid meeting his grin. You hadn’t realized someone could look that full of themselves. “Don’t be like that, girl. Smile for me!”

 

There it was. Your very favorite request. Internally scolding yourself, you offered the briefest of smiles. You just wanted him to let you pass.

 

He laughed and finally stepped aside. “There’s that pretty face!”

 

He followed you up the stairs. “So, you live around here? Need me to give you a ride home?”

 

You had to give him a dubious look at that. “But you’ve been drinking.”

 

He shrugged and flashed another smarmy smile. “I’m a _real_ good driver. Whaddya say?”

 

You reached street level, and the crawling over your skin instantly disappeared when you saw Sans waiting for you by the bus stop, casually checking his phone, same as always. He looked up at you with the beginnings of a grin, but it instantly tightened when he noticed your expression, as well as the drunkard trailing behind you.

 

You didn’t even bother giving Cody an excuse when you hurried to Sans’ side, saying, “H-hey, cool, right on time, just like you said!” Your voice cracked with nerves. The lights in your friend’s eyes vanished.

 

To your surprise, Sans didn’t hesitate to put an arm around your shoulders and pull you against him. Your mind went completely blank. You had no idea how to react. On the one hand, your heart was racing and you were quickly forgetting that Cody was even there and you were getting very, _very_ warm…but on the other, you could feel the tension seeping from him in waves. You glanced at him anxiously. He was looking at Cody in much the same way he’d looked at Flowey.

 

Cody just looked shocked. He blinked at Sans a few times, as if his drunk mind was struggling to accept the existence of a living skeleton, until he suddenly grinned and exclaimed, “Hey, hold on a sec, I know you! You’re that one monster, the funny one!” He pointed down the stairs. “You performed tonight, right? Aw man, that was hilarious, I didn’t know monsters could even _be_ funny!”

 

Now the tension was coming off of you as well.

 

Sans smiled in a way that anyone sober would recognize as hostile. “heh. thanks, _pal_. always cool to meet a fan.”

 

Finally, Cody seemed to register Sans’ arm around you. He stared at you in confusion for a second, pointed between the two of you, and then dropped his jaw disbelievingly. “Wait…you know this guy? And you’re…?” His grin was suddenly amused and disgustingly conceited. “No way. You think _you_ —” He gestured to Sans. “—and _her_ …? You can’t be serious.”

 

The rush of fury that shot through your veins caught you off guard. Sans’ grip tightened on your shoulder, and you suddenly realized you’d physically flinched toward Cody. Was he holding you back? _Huh,_ you thought absently. _That’s new._

“no offense, buddy,” Sans drawled, using that overly-casual voice that made even you uneasy, “but that’s none of your business.”

 

“Ok, I knew you were funny, but _this_ really takes the cake,” Cody chuckled. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Pretty girl like her? That’s fucking _hilarious._ ”

 

Yup. He was definitely holding you back. You knew your face wasn’t reflecting it, but there was something primal inside you that wanted to tear that smug grin off his cheeks.

 

“y’know, i’m the professional here, and i gotta say: that’s nowhere _near_ as hilarious as the joke i’m looking at right now.”

 

The man’s expression tightened in shock. You turned to Sans, slightly slack-jawed, but his empty gaze was devoted to Cody. Before, you’d compared his smile to the one he wore for Flowey, but this was new. This wasn’t only hateful—this was _dangerous_. You snapped out of your own anger and started to feel nervous for the drunkard’s sake. You suddenly noticed that the bony hand on your shoulder was buzzing, sparking, getting hotter and hotter…

 

Forgetting Cody, you tentatively put a hand over his and muttered, “Sans?”

 

Something seemed to click. The buzzing subsided, his pupils lit up, and his gaze slid to you. He looked apologetic.

 

“You think _I’m_ a joke? Pft, alright.” The man straightened his suit and offered you another infuriating grin. “Listen sweetheart, soon as you get over your _cavern-fever_ …” He didn’t seem to notice your fresh wave of disgust at the slur as he reached into his pocket and flicked out a business card. “Gimme a call.”

 

When neither of you made a move toward him, he shrugged and tossed it on the ground. You couldn’t believe his arrogance as he tossed you a wink before walking away. You and Sans watched him in silence, not moving until he’d disappeared around a corner.

 

“you ok?” Sans’ voice was soft, completely lacking the edge it had carried before.

 

“Uh, are _you_?” You turned to him fully. “You were…god, you were _pissed_.”

 

“pft, _me_? buddy, i don’t wanna know what woulda happened if i let you go on him.” Despite everything, Sans was smiling. _Actually_ smiling. His arm still hadn’t left your shoulders, but it felt relaxed. How was he able to switch personas with such ease?

 

You blushed in embarrassment. “Oh…yeah. Ok. Yeah, wow, I was mad. I was _super mad._ ”

 

“i mean, not that i wouldn’t love to see you dunk that guy.” Casually, he dropped his arm and started walking. You tried not to look too disappointed as you followed.

 

“A ha, nope. No. Trust me, there wouldn’t be any, uh… _dunking_? Not really built for it.” You raised your useless, scrawny arms for emphasis, making him laugh.

 

“so what’s the story behind asshole mcgee anyway?”

 

“Ah, y’know, it’s not a huge deal. Just some jerk who flirted with me. I sort of tried shaking him off, but…” You scratched you neck self-consciously. “Aha…I’m not always the best at being up front with people? Even shitty people. So he just…I don’t know. Followed me. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough…”

 

You prepared yourself for the usual lectures: You should stand up for yourself; you should report him; you should just tell him to shove off. Like it was that easy. You’d heard it all before, but those trying to give you advice couldn’t ever understand your anxiety. You’d rather put up with awkward situations than confront them. Nothing scared you more.

 

“that’s not your responsibility.”

 

You stared at him in surprise.

 

“he’s a damn _adult_ , you shouldn’t have to give him a lesson on how not to be a creep.” He was on the verge of ranting, clearly annoyed for your sake. “and this is just something you _deal_ with?”

 

“U-uh, I guess? I mean, it’s pretty typical to get hit on when you work at a bar, so…”

 

He snorted. You could tell he wasn’t as calm as he’d tried to appear—his pupils were dangerously dim, and his grin was growing wider by the second. “three years, and i still can’t believe some of the shit that goes on up here. humans can be such…” He stopped himself. His pupils brightened again as he turned to you and fumbled, “i mean, uh.”

 

He looked taken aback when you burst into giggles. You raised a reassuring hand, the other one clutching your stomach, as you gasped, “S-sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, you’re totally right!”

 

“uh, ok, but you know i didn’t mean…uh… _y_ _ou’re_ not, y’know. um.” He looked so flustered. You’d never seen him like this.

 

“It’s just— _snrk_ —I’ve been unintentionally specist, like, _multiple_ times, and now here you are.” You tried to suppress the laughter as his face went blank. “Sh-shoot, god sorry, totally shouldn’t find this so funny. I suck.”

 

Sans started snickering, the lingering anger finally giving out. “i was totally gonna say, ‘humans can be such _radholes_.”

 

“’ _Radholes_?!’” You had to stop as a full-bellied guffaw threatened to knock you over.

 

“yeah. absolute radholes. i love humans. i’d never say anything bad about them. that’s just not me.”

 

You bent double. “Oh my god _stop—_ ”

 

His grin was merciless. “i’m not specist. trust me. i have _tons_ of human friends.”

 

You both fell apart after that. All the way to your apartment you were making horrible, tasteless, hilarious jokes at each other’s expense, and by the time you got home, every discomfort you’d felt lost any significance. You couldn’t even remember the drunk guy’s name.

 

* * *

 

 

You could feel nails scrape against your neck. You could see them. Long, artificial, perfectly maintained, black. You could remember how they felt. How they tasted. How you’d found them so alluring when you’d first seen them, and how you’d told her as much.

 

They were choking you. They were holding you down. They were filed into sharp points, puncturing your flesh and drawing blood and _loving_ the gasps of protest you were making. Those gasps were fading. Those gasps were silent.

 

Pressure on your back. Pressure on your throat. Pressure everywhere, heaviness, heavy, so heavy, the weight was crushing you. The weight was driving you insane.

 

You were going i n s a   n    e

 

You jerked awake. You panted and clutched at you neck, checking for wounds. Nothing. Of course there was nothing. It was just a nightmare, just the nightmare. You covered your eyes and tried to calm your labored breathing, managing to come to your senses much faster this time. _In through your nose, out through your mouth, repeat. Keep breathing._

 

You’d just fallen asleep—it couldn’t have been more than a couple hours. You groaned in frustration and pressed your palms hard against your eyes, banishing the scraps of dream that clung to you. _That’s twice now._

 

You’d hoped it wouldn’t start up again this soon. You were stupid to think you could escape it. To think you could escape…

 

“Don’t even go there, Naya,” you mumbled. _Don’t even_ think _the name. Don’t._

Dropping your hands, you stared miserably up at the ceiling, then turned your head to stare miserably out the window. It was that time of morning when nobody was out, the streetlamps were off, and fog was starting to billow between the buildings. The outside looked like a flat gray and black sheet.

 

You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to stay awake and waste time alone and expend _so much energy_ on not thinking. But you couldn’t go back to sleep. You wouldn’t go back.

 

A blink of light suddenly caught your eye. Your phone. The little blue LED was flashing—an unread message. You grabbed it from the bedside table and turned on the screen, desperate for any distraction. The texts had been sent a few hours ago, shortly after you’d fallen asleep:

 

***night**

***radhole**

You read the words at least a dozen times. You clutched your phone like it was a lifeline. After several breaths of hesitation, you sent a reply.

 

***I know you’re probably asleep, but…I don’t think I thanked you?**

***For earlier.**

***You pretty much saved me so…yeah. Thank you.**

You managed a small smile. You closed your eyes and leaned back, holding the phone against your chest, but when it buzzed mere seconds later you nearly jumped out of your skin.

 

***dont sweat it naya**

Your heart pounded and you momentarily forgot why you were awake. It was ridiculous, but any time he used your name, it made you feel so…

 

***Hey Sans.**

***Knock knock.**

***whos there**

***Water.**

***water who**

***Water you doing tomorrow?**

You stared at the screen, feeling your face heat up. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long.

 

***whatever u want**

***just wanna sea u**

You read it over and over. You paused. You grinned. And then you squealed. You actually _squealed_. You turned on your side and kicked your legs and hugged your phone. You felt absolutely ludicrous. You forced yourself to calm down enough to reply:

 

***Cool, guess I’ll text you tomorrow then!**

***sounds temperate**

You fell back on your bed, already feeling a thousand times better. _How_? How was he so perfectly, unintentionally capable of lifting you up? Four words were all it took to erase the gloom.

For the first time you could remember, you were able to fall back asleep without worrying about pressure or nails or nightmares. Your mind was too preoccupied with puns, laughter, and the memory of your name being uttered in that deep voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Radhole" is a reference to this astoundingly awesome comic by loverofpiggies: http://loverofpiggies.tumblr.com/post/138912155970 Kudos to those who got it! :D
> 
> When writing Cody I tried to think of things that asshole dudes say to try and make themselves seem charming. He's that smooth, successful piece of shit who thinks that girls are into cocky alpha-males. I know many of these bros irl and they all suck.


	12. Flattery Will Get You Out Of Anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys friggin rule. Every comment seriously makes my day, no joke, every single one. Cannot even thank ya'll enough for bothering with this silly story. ;u;
> 
> I haven't done any serious drawing but this was a warmup at one point. It's the outside of the bone bro's and the goat mom's apartments: http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/140614698459/a-cruddy-warmup-drawing-as-i-was-trying-to-get-a

You were in a good mood when you arrived at Sans’ apartment building. The morning was bright and warm, and you’d managed to put the unpleasantness of the previous night out of your mind. You’d even gotten a solid chunk of sleep back after waking up from your nightmare.

 

You noticed Toriel and Frisk’s door hanging slightly ajar, and before you had the chance to knock at the skeleton brothers’ apartment, you heard a loud voice exclaim from the former, “SANS! IF BREAKFAST IS NOT THE TIME FOR SPAGHETTI—AS I HAVE BEEN RECENTLY INFORMED BY HER MAJESTY—THEN IT IS CERTAINLY NOT THE TIME FOR PUNS!!”

 

You moved to the open door and gave a tentative knock, peeking inside. You could see the dining room table, where Toriel was serving the brothers a delicious looking meal. At the sound of your knock, the goat monster glanced up and flashed you a friendly smile.

 

“Anaya, you have made it!”

 

“NAYA! WHAT A SURPRISE! EXCEPT IT IS NOT, AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE BEEN EXPECTING YOU FOR SUNDAY SHENANIGANS!!”

 

“mornin’.” Sans’ voice sounded huskier than usual, and his wave and wink were sluggish. He must have just woken up.

 

“Morning!” You returned their smiles and were about to enter, but you jumped back when the door was suddenly yanked open to reveal Frisk beaming out at you. They wore a delicate, lacy tank-top and baggy cargo pants tucked into combat boots—the outfit was like a walking oxymoron.

 

The teen wrapped you in a tight hug. You hugged them back, laughing, “Hey, Frisk! No, wait…” You pulled away and attempted flicking your hands in the sign for “ **what’s up**?”

 

Frisk gave you a double thumbs-up and Toriel cheered, “You are a fast learner, Anaya, very well done!”

 

You hadn’t expected to see Frisk or Toriel today, but you felt so welcome as the teen pulled you all the way in, and the smell of that home-cooked breakfast was more than a little enticing.

 

Once you were seated and graciously eating a plateful of eggs, bacon, and scones, Toriel commented, “It is wonderful to see you away from work!”

 

“I know, right?” you replied between bites. “I mean, I really don’t want to intrude, but it’s so nice of you to let me join in, and—”

 

“’Let you?’” Toriel cut you off with a gentle but incredulous scoff. “My dear, Frisk has been practically _begging_ us to invite you over again!”

 

You gave them an appreciative look and muttered, “Aw, dude, really?”

 

Frisk grinned and gave another thumbs-up.

 

"AND IT IS NOT JUST FRISK!" Papyrus interjected, standing and spewing crumbs from his teeth. Toriel gave a pointed cough, causing the skeleton to cover his full mouth with one hand before continuing, "I HAVE BEEN ANXIOUSLY AWAITING A CHANCE TO FURTHER DISCUSS HUMAN FOOD WITH YOU. FOR YOU SEE, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE DECIDED TO START SERIOUSLY PURSUING A LIFE IN CUISINE! I HAVE DECIDED..." He struck a grand pose, placing one foot up on his chair until Toriel gave another, louder cough to get him to take it off. "...TO ATTEND HUMAN COOKING CLASSES!!"

 

Frisk clapped encouragingly, while Sans chuckled, "woah, for real?"

 

"YES!! I HAVE SPOKEN WITH ALPHYS AND UNDYNE, AND THEY'RE GOING TO HELP ME REGISTER AT THE UNIVERSITY WHERE ALPHYS WORKS!"

 

"That's so cool, Papyrus!" you beamed. "College is awesome, you're gonna love it." Not that you would really know. You took a semester straight out of high school before dropping out, overwhelmed by the notion of student loans and college life. Plus, it had come at a complicated period of your life, one you'd rather not revisit. You immediately blocked the trail of thought when your mind tried traveling down it.

 

"Anaya is right, it is a truly noble decision! There is no better use of one's time than pursuing higher education," Toriel said passionately.

 

"proud of you, paps." Sans put a sincere hand on his brother's arm, but his smile was slightly devious. tori's right. nothin' better than a skeleton going to _skull_."

 

Papyrus jerked away as you and Toriel snickered, protesting, "COME NOW, BROTHER, THAT BARELY EVEN MAKES SENSE!!"

 

Amidst the brothers' banter, Frisk leaned forward and tapped their wrist to get everyone's attention, glancing impatiently to the door.

 

"Goodness, you are right, my child. We had best be off if we do not want to be late."

 

You were confused as everyone started clearing the table, asking, "Oh, are we going somewhere?"

 

Toriel nodded. "It is our Sunday tradition! We take turns picking activities, as a way to explore each city we inhabit."

 

"WHOSE TURN IS IT TODAY?"

 

"alph, i think," Sans answered with a shrug. "didn't they text you an address?"

 

"OH." Papyrus pulled his phone from his pocket and blinked down at it. "IT WOULD SEEM THEY DID."

 

While his brother was texting and Frisk and Toriel were piling dishes in the sink, Sans stood by you and muttered, "'s that ok? hanging out with everybody?"

 

 _What, as opposed to hanging out alone?_ You blushed involuntarily at the thought and replied, "It's definitely ok."

 

He grinned. "cool."

 

Once breakfast was cleared and everyone started heading out the door, Frisk suddenly stopped and signed something to Toriel, who tilted her head and responded, "You say you forgot something? What do you—" Frisk ducked back into the apartment before she could finish, leaving her looking mildly perplexed.

 

It didn't take long for them to return. Frisk now wore a brightly colored backpack and was grinning innocently at everyone, skipping past the group and waving for you all to hurry.

 

* * *

 

 

Papyrus drove the five of you in a red, sporty convertible, which was both fun and cramped. Toriel was in the passenger seat, but even then her shoulders were hunched and her horns pressed into the fold-down roof. Not surprisingly, the skeleton was quite an... _enthusiastic_ driver, taking sharp corners and consistently going above the speed limit with the explanation of, "LIMITS ONLY EXIST TO BE BROKEN!!"

 

Even though you, Frisk and Sans didn't take up much space individually, you were still squished shoulder-to-shoulder in the back. In your effort to avoid feeling flustered by your close quarters to the skeleton, you kept glancing toward Frisk. The teen was clutching the backpack against their chest and staring straight ahead throughout the entire car ride, only offering the occasional nod or smile when their mother would speak to them. They looked borderline tense.

 

You arrived at a public parking lot downtown, where Alphys and Undyne were already waiting. They grinned in surprise when you came out of the car.

 

"You brought the new human?!" Undyne barked. She slammed a webbed hand on your shoulder before you could respond. "Awesome!"

 

Alphys' greeting was a bit more subdued. "H-hi, Naya! G-good to see you again!"

 

"Nice to see you, too," you replied, rubbing your now-sore shoulder. You felt simultaneously nervous and pleased at their friendliness. It was difficult to ignore that paranoid niggling in the back of your mind that insisted you were intruding, but you were getting there. These monsters' kindness was hard not to believe.

 

Undyne was pulling Papyrus down in the crook of her arm and giving him a noogie, chastising, "Where were you guys?! We were supposed to get here early!"

 

Sans was watching the assault on his brother with a sleepy grin. "we are early."

 

"Anytime before lunch is early for you, lazy-a...ah, uh..." Undyne's retort was cut off with a warning look from Toriel, and she amended, "Lazy...apple. Lazy-apple is what I was gonna say."

 

"I-it's actually only t-ten thirty," Alphys stuttered to her wife as Papyrus struggled out of her hold. "Th-the place should just be opening."

 

You all started walking down the street toward what looked like a shopping district. Papyrus seemed to be buzzing with anticipation as he demanded, "DO NOT ACT SO SECRETIVE, ALPHYS! WHAT DESTINATION HAVE YOU SELECTED??"

 

The yellow monster looked typically shy, but excited. "Well, i-it's a place I've always wanted to g-go on the surface, and th-this is the only city that's had one so f-far..."

 

"Whatever it is, I am sure we will enjoy ourselves, dear!" Toriel encouraged.

 

Alphys immediately flushed at the goat monster's words and stuttered, "G-gosh...I sure hope so."

 

You were smiling contentedly at the exchanges, walking beside Sans near the back of the group, but you couldn’t help noticing something. Frisk hadn't signed anything. They were walking behind their mother, subdued, still holding their backpack tightly.

 

You wanted to ask them if they were ok, when Alphys stopped and announced, "Th-this is it!"

 

The building didn't look much different from the surrounding ones, but the sign read: "City Centre Planetarium." Your eyes immediately lit up in excitement.

 

"PLAN...PLANE-TARI-UM?" Papyrus read with some struggle.

 

"It's a planetarium, dork," Undyne corrected with a laugh. "We're gonna learn about space and junk!"

 

"Oh, an educational excursion!" Toriel gasped happily. She turned to beam down at Frisk. "Is it not exciting, my child?"

 

They gave a smile and a nod, still holding that backpack. They rushed in, looking impatient, with the others following close behind.

 

You and Sans hung back a bit. You were still grinning up at the sign, saying, "I used to love these as a kid. Have you ever been to...?"

 

You finally turned to look at the skeleton. His eye-sockets were wide, his expression was slack, and he looked more awake than he had all morning. He almost looked in awe as he stared at the building, his hands hanging loose at his sides.

 

"Uh, you ok?"

 

He started a bit, glancing at you and blinking. "your...this city has a planetarium?"

 

"I guess. I've never been." You couldn't read his face at all, which worried you. "Is...something wrong?"

 

You were surprised when he broke out in an ecstatic grin. "opposite."

 

You both went in, and you noticed Sans' gait was much more animated than usual. The entryway was tall and grand, with a huge mobile of the solar system hanging down underneath a domed sun-roof. You kept your eyes on Sans--he craned his neck and spun slowly to take it all in, wearing that same slightly-numb expression. You'd never seen him like this.

 

Once the tickets were purchased the group split up as different attractions caught their eyes. Toriel and Frisk went down a hall that led to the "Junior Space-Explorers" section. Undyne immediately had to drag Alphys to the gift shop because "Oh my god, humans make candy out of rocks?!" Papyrus became enthralled by a Rube Goldberg machine that took up an entire wall, gushing about the ingeniousness of the "puzzle."

 

That left you and Sans. "So," you started, "where do you want to go--"

 

Without warning, he took your hand and started dragging you toward a winding staircase that passed every planet in the giant mobile. The words were caught in your throat. You glanced down at your joined hands, feeling slightly panicked, then fixed your eyes on his grin. He somehow looked...younger.

 

"check out the size of this model," he was murmuring, his pupils bright and wide. "do you think they've still got pluto? all the books we had still classified it as a planet, i was so bummed when i got up here and heard the news."

 

You were thrown off by his enthusiasm, but not in a bad way. You stuttered, "I-I don't know? Uh...oh! Wait, yeah, there it is!"

 

The bottom of the stairs had a group of tiny hanging orbs, with one labeled as Pluto. A narrator's voice rang out from a nearby speaker to explain its status as a dwarf planet. Sans listened with a fascinated expression. "dwarf planet, huh?" He winked at you teasingly. "i can relate."

 

You broke down in giggles, but Sans wasn't wasting any time, pulling you urgently up the stairs to absorb every bit of information the narrator had to offer. He was like a kid in a candy store, his wonder growing at each planet’s display until you reached the top: the sun. It was constructed to act as a spherical screen, with an unseen projector making it look like it had actual sunspots flaring and growing and shrinking all over its surface. Sans was enraptured.

 

"Cool," you breathed.

 

"yeah." His voice was soft, almost reverent. You stared at the model in silence for a few moments before he went on, "y'know, that was probably the craziest adjustment."

 

You turned to him, puzzled.

 

"this." He wore a wistful smile, leaning on the railing and studying not just the model, but the sun roof as well. "the sun. the light, the warmth. it's nuts. when you live a whole life with no sky, just a dark ceiling and artificial light, it's kinda jarring to come up here and suddenly, you can always look up and see something. feel something."

 

You were quiet. Your chest was tightening as you watched the sunlight streaming in through the glass overhead, bouncing off his pale bones and making him glow. A sadness you couldn't explain started to wash through you, but then he's turning to you with a grin and taking your hand again, and the feeling's gone.

 

"c'mon," he said brightly. "let’s keep looking.”

 

The staircase had led you to a second floor, with exhibits explaining human's history in space travel and discovery. Sans would occasionally let go of your hand to more closely inspect bits of information or interact with the attractions, but he would always slip his fingers back into yours, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. While he was absorbed in the planetarium, you were finding it difficult to focus on anything but him. Your mind kept dissecting the feeling of his strange, boney knuckles; the slight squeezes he would give when he was pulling you in a new direction; the almost unnoticeable vibrations you felt whenever he was particularly fascinated by something. He was happily lost in space, but you were stuck firmly on earth with his hand in yours, and you were starting to feel a bit lightheaded from the contact.

 

At one point, you had separated to look at different displays, when you noticed something strange. Frisk was alone at a somewhat removed exhibit, hunched over something out of your vision. They were smiling and signing. You tilted your head in confusion. Toriel was nowhere in sight, but they were clearly talking to someone. Glancing back at Sans, who was still pouring over a replica of the Mars rover, you approached the teen.

 

They didn't notice you until you said, "Hey, Frisk! Where's your mom?"

 

They jumped and spun around, their expression guilty. It looked like they were hiding something behind their back.

 

You stopped, tilting your head. "Uh, something wrong?"

 

They shook their head and flashed a strained smile. Their elbows were moving.

 

"You sure? Cuz if you need help with anything I can--"

 

They suddenly winced, pulled their hands out from behind their back, and dropped something on the ground with a thunk.

 

"Jeez, finally! You were suffocating me!"

 

Your heart sunk at the familiar voice. Your eyes snapped downward. Rolling on the floor behind Frisk, their pot overturned, was Flowey. He looked irritated as he tried to prop himself back up with a pair of leaves that acted as appendages. The teen grimaced and leaned down to help him, picking him back up and giving you a desperate look.

 

Flowey noticed you. His face fell into disgust as he griped, "Well, if isn't Miss Can't-Take-A-Joke."

 

Instinctively, you ushered Frisk and Flowey into a corner, out of Sans' line of vision. You weren't happy to see the flower, but you didn't want Frisk to get in trouble. You were pretty certain the others wouldn't be too pleased if they knew they snuck Flowey out of the house.

 

"What is he doing here?" you hissed.

 

Frisk twisted their backpack to wear it across their front, then put Flowey into it so just his blossom was sticking out. They gave a few nervous signs.

 

"They wanted me to spend the day with their stupid friends," Flowey translated sullenly.

 

Frisk frowned at the flower's tone. They reached back into the bag and produced a notepad instead, writing a quick message. **Mom doesn't like him going out and saying mean things but I thought if he just stayed out of sight he could still come.**

 

"Told you we'd get caught," Flowey muttered. "You never listen to me!"

 

 **Don't tell mom** , Frisk wrote pleadingly. **I won't do it again and I'll keep him hidden, I promise. Pleeeease.**

 

"She's not gonna do it, Frisk, she's gonna rat us out." Flowey was glaring at you with a scowl. Somehow the expression was infinitely less intimidating than that chipper smile he'd worn when you first met.

 

**No she's not, Naya's cool, the coolest, please please please?**

 

Despite your dislike towards Flowey, you had to hold back a smile. You were once again impressed by Frisk's patient sweetness. How they were able to put up with the angry little flower, you had no idea, but you could tell from one look at the teen's face that they genuinely cared about him.

 

Casting a conspiring glance over your shoulder, you sighed and relented, "Ok, ok, I won't tell anyone. But you guys have to be careful, ok?" You remembered the look on Sans' face when he'd caught Flowey antagonizing you. A shudder went down your spine. "Don't let anyone else catch you. Especially not--"

 

"what're you guys doing?"

 

You whipped around so that your body was blocking Flowey and Frisk. Sans wore a half smile, looking at you curiously.

 

You heard protesting grumbles as Frisk tried to shove Flowey deeper into the bag. Sans’ expression twitched a bit. Acting on impulse, you quickly strode forward, grabbed his hand, and started dragging him away, saying, "H-hey, wow, ok, I just remembered, there's something over here I wanted to show you!"

 

"uh, ok?"

 

You spared a glance back at Frisk, giving them an exaggerated wink. They gave you a look like you were a superhero. You felt a swell of satisfaction--helping kids get out of trouble was one of your specialties. You tried not to think about the fact that it meant you were now in cahoots with Flowey, too.

 

"so, heh, what d'you wanna show me?"

 

"Um." You mentally scrabbled for an excuse, when you suddenly remembered a sign you'd seen near the planetarium entrance. "Just, uh, this cool thing I wanted to check out."

 

You led him past several exhibits, past Undyne and Alphys taking selfies in a spaceship cockpit replica, past Papyrus and Toriel reading about black holes, until you reached the entrance to a separate room.

 

Sans raised a brow. "what is...?"

 

It may have been a cover for Frisk, but you were actually excited to show him. You led him into the dark room with a few rows of reclining seats. The ceiling was domed and dim, and a sign by the entrance had a list of times. One of them was in just five minutes.

 

"ok, are you just being mysterious on purpose?" he chuckled.

 

"Maybe?" you replied with a shrug. "It's a surprise. Just wait."

 

You both took a seat. Your mind started to race at the knowledge that you were alone, in the dark, sitting side by side, but you didn't have enough time to get psyched out before Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys trickled in. They must have seen you hurrying Sans away and followed.

 

"WHAT IS THIS ROUND ROOM??" Papyrus exclaimed. His voice sounded close and insulated in the small space.

 

"O-oh! I know what th-this is! It's--"

 

You waved your hands to silence Alphys and stammered, "W-wait, don't tell them, I want it to be a surprise."

 

Sans snorted. "someone's committed."

 

You blushed and shrugged again.

 

"Is Frisk not with you two?" Toriel sounded a bit worried, glancing around the room.

 

You resisted the urge to wince. "Uh, th-they're, um..."

 

To your relief, Frisk scurried in before you had to come up with an excuse, their backpack closed once again and held to their chest.

 

"There you are!" Toriel breathed. "Where did you run off to?"

 

They shrugged dismissively and quickly sat down on your other side, giving you a secretive look. You smiled back and nudged them, careful not to jostle the backpack.

 

The dim lights suddenly went completely dark, and a voice over the intercom announced, "Please take your seats, as the show is about to begin."

 

You were all seated. A slow, orchestral tune started to play, and slowly, a series of projectors started turning on all across the domed screen before you. You grinned at the monsters' gasps of wonder as, suddenly, stars appeared all around, shifting and moving around you to create the illusion of shooting through space.

 

You heard a quiet zip. You glanced to your left to see Frisk cautiously opening their backpack, and Flowey peeking out at the spectacle. You chuckled quietly at their matching, wide-eyed expressions. The little plant seemed relatively harmless when he wasn’t acting out.

 

The show went on with grand momentum. The seats had a mechanism that spun the audience to ensure that you were always facing the most incredible spectacles. You saw colorful nebulae; the stories behind constellations; bright, terrible supernovas and the black holes they created.

 

You were fully enthralled, so when you felt a hard, warm hand slide over yours and a low voice hiss, "naya," you jumped. You turned to Sans. The screen was depicting the workings of a shooting star, yet he was looking at you. His pupils were bright and the blue on his cheekbones was more prominent than usual in the darkness. You felt your breath catch in your throat.

 

"Yeah?" Your whisper was barely audible.

 

He gave your hand a slight squeeze. The shooting star swept its tail over the length of the theater. "thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nerd snas


	13. Frisk aka Experienced Drunkard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the support you kooky biscuitheads! :D

"Alright, who wants seconds?!"

 

Papyrus raised an enthusiastic hand at Undyne's offer, while everyone else politely but quickly shook their heads. You had to keep the grimace off your face until the fish monster and the skeleton dashed back into the kitchen.

 

After the planetarium, Alphys and Undyne had invited everyone over to their condo. The late lunch Undyne had made was...interesting. It was some kind of casserole that was all at once sweet, hearty, and very, very spicy. So spicy. You still weren't sure how soon you'd regain your ability to taste. Looking around, you saw Toriel trying her very best to look appreciative of Undyne's hospitality; Frisk inconspicuously dumping their portion into a houseplant's pot; Alphys with an expression that was borderline weary; and Sans looking entirely unaffected, having somehow managed to make his food disappear despite the fact that you were positive he hadn't taken a bite. You gave him a scowl that was one part resentful and one part jealous, which he returned with a slow, teasing wink.

 

They had fully moved in by now, although there were still several unpacked boxes stacked in each room's corner. They had at least set up a few chairs and a loveseat in the living room, as well as an enormous TV and sound system that took up an entire wall, which they referred to as "Anime HQ."

 

"So! How is university life, Alphys?" Toriel eventually chirped, setting down her plate with only the tiniest hint of distaste.

 

"I-it's going really well," she replied, looking shyly into her bottle of Mountain Dew. "I mean, I-I think it is, nobody's c-complained, at least, y'know, not yet..."

 

"Aw c'mon, babe, the students freaking love you!" Walking back in, Undyne planted a quick kiss to her wife's reptilian frill before she casually started picking up dirty dishes.

 

You kept finding yourself smiling as you watched the couple--seeing them in their own home made it easy to pick out their quirks. Alphys was a bit messy and absentminded, always placing her cup on bare wood or leaving things in disarray, but Undyne would be right behind her to put down a coaster and tidy her messes, with neither of them consciously noticing. They clearly lived well together.

 

"G-gosh, I wouldn't say...I d-don't know about _l-love_ , but--"

 

"Yeah, I'm talking whole study groups of pimply little college kids knocking on our door, begging for homework help, bringing presents, wanting to watch anime. It's hilarious!" She plopped down next to Alphys, who was hiding her blush behind her claws.

 

"Well that is wonderful," Toriel beamed. "And it is equally wonderful that you are helping Papyrus further pursue his education!"

 

"Heck yeah we are!" As Papyrus returned from the kitchen with a heaping plate, Undyne swung her arm around to catch him around the waist, yanking him toward her and almost making him drop his food. "This dork is going to be the best monster chef in the world!"

 

Papyrus' cheekbones suddenly glowed red as he covered his face with one hand. Was he blushing? "W-WOWIE! I'M FLATTERED BY YOUR FAITH IN ME, UNDYNE!!"

 

Everyone laughed goodnaturedly, but as you looked at the flushed skeleton trying to escape a noogie, your eyes widened in realization. Your gaze slid from the glow on Papyrus' cheeks to Sans, who was chuckling on the seat next to you. That glow was familiar.

 

You stood, feeling quite warm all of a sudden. You picked up the stack of plates Undyne had gathered as the others chatted and continued teasing Papyrus, quietly taking them to the kitchen as your thoughts started to race. You remembered all the times Sans' face had shown blue when you were together. You'd never connected the similarities, but now that you'd seen his brother clearly, impossibly _blushing_ in embarrassment, you could feel the heat rushing to your own cheeks as you told yourself, _No, there's no way._

 

"need some help?"

 

You turned from the sink in surprise. Sans slouched in the doorway, a few cups hanging from his fingers. You realized you hadn't even put down the stack of dishes.

 

"U-uh, sure?"

 

He came up beside you casually, running water over the dishes with that easy grin and then handing them to you to place in the washer. You were obviously tense. You wanted to ask about it, the question kept creeping to the tip of your tongue, but just when you were finally gathering the nerve to speak, he beat you to it.

 

"so what's the verdict? were you feeling _over the moon_ today?" He gave you a sideways smirk, still bent over the sink.

 

A touch of the tension slipped away as you smiled at the pun. "Dude, _yes_. That was so cool. I had no idea this city had such a nice planetarium."

 

"yeah. 's way cool."

 

Your eyes sparked mischievously. "I was over the moon, but you were totally _starry-eyed_."

 

His grin widened. "wow. that comeback was _out of this world_."

 

"Not as good as that one. You really _rocket_."

 

You laughed as Sans hung his head in defeat, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Silently, he held up a wet, bony hand for a high-five, muttering, "damn. the student becomes the teacher."

 

You forgot why you were nervous as you accepted the high five. Turning back to the dishwasher, you said, "But seriously. I take it you like space?"

 

Sans shrugged lightly. It was like he was trying to look nonchalant, but you didn't miss the enthusiastic glimmer in his pupils. "sure. i mean, obviously i didn't have many resources growing up, but..." His grin turned a touch more tender. "i had a telescope."

 

"For real?"

 

"yeah. doesn't work as well when there's no sky. heh. but we had this room, this cave. everybody called it the wishing room. ceiling had a bunch of crystal fragments growing out of it. lots of folks liked pretending they were stars."

 

You'd gone still, the dishes forgotten. His face was as lax and lazy as always, but you could almost see the nostalgia underneath. Almost.

 

"i'd take that telescope and prank the other kids with it. put wet paint on the eyepiece and have 'em take a look. hilarious. man, paps loved that thing, too. ttill got it packed up somewhere. dunno if it still works."

 

He looked like he had when his eyes were trained on the sun model. Same grin, same slouch, but somehow softer. You swallowed and felt your chest tighten. You had the involuntary desire to understand every one of his looks.

 

"We should take it out sometime."

 

Sans glanced at you, one brow raised. "yeah?"

 

 _'We.'_ Whoops. Your face became flushed. Once again, your mouth worked faster than your mind. "Uh, I mean, y'know, if you want to? Cuz there's, y-y'know, sky? Now? Y-you could, like, take a look at actual stars, n-not that crystals aren't cool! But you just seemed really into it at the planetarium and I don't have to come if you don't want but there's this park outside of town and--"

 

"naya." He interrupted you with a chuckle.

 

You shut up. Your cheeks were uncomfortably hot as you glanced at him, and to your mixed distress and pleasure, he shone blue.

 

"you're right. we should _star-dust_ that old thing off." And with that, he dried off his hands and started heading back to the living room. You couldn't miss the color that remained on his cheekbones.

 

"H-hey, Sans?" you asked in a small, uncertain voice. You still had to know. You pointed at his face. "What, uh...what does that mean?"

 

"what?"

 

"When your face goes all blue like that?"

 

His grin tensed a bit and, if you weren't mistaken, the blue deepened. It took him a moment to answer, "heh. what's it mean when your face goes all red like that?"

 

Your mind drew a complete blank. Your heart gave a frantic stutter as his smile stretched at one corner, and you were suddenly sure your blush would spread over the entirety of your skin until you looked like a boiled lobster.

 

"Hey losers, get in here! Frisk is showing us a weird human game!!"

 

Undyne's barking voice brought you back to reality. You blinked at Sans a couple times, laughed nervously, gave an overly-dramatic shrug, and quickly walked past him without reading too deep into how easily he was able to slip back into his typically lazy expression.

 

You kept your eyes down as you and Sans re-entered the living room, but when your gaze flickered past Toriel, you tensed. Everyone else was blessedly distracted, but she was staring at you with a certain look. A look that was all at once surprised, curious, and alarmingly knowing, but the expression was gone in an instant. You tried not to worry about it.

 

Frisk was signing quickly at the others with an excited grin. Their backpack had stayed on their lap all night, and thankfully Flowey hadn't made himself known to anyone else, staying obediently still and silent throughout lunch.

 

After watching Frisk for a few more seconds, Undyne turned to you and Sans and explained, "Ok, it's called Never Have I Ever, and the rules are--"

 

You interrupted with, "Got it," just as Sans said, "know 'em."

 

"OF COURSE NAYA WOULD BE FAMILIAR WITH THESE HUMAN GAMES! BUT SANS?? I THINK YOU'RE JUST TOO LAZY TO LET UNDYNE EXPLAIN THE RULES!!"

 

Sans shrugged and leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed. "y'got me there, bro."

 

"Tch, alright, lazy-bones, you're not getting out of playing with us!!" Undyne produced a few shot glasses from an unpacked box and placed them on the coffee table.

 

Toriel looked alarmed. "Is...is this a..." She dropped her voice and glanced uncertainly at Frisk, as if she was embarrassed to finish the question. "A drinking game?"

 

Undyne stared at the glasses blankly. "Uh...I don't know? It's a human game, so?!"

 

"Me and my friends always played with soda," you reassured.

 

Frisk nodded and made a gesture that seemed to say, **Me too.**

 

"O-oh, then that's not so bad!" Alphys said, looking a little excited.

 

Undyne, on the other hand, grimaced with dread. "Ugh. Fine. Soda it is. Just extra incentive for me to win!!"

 

While she was filling the glasses with Sprite, Papyrus explained, "PAY ATTENTION, BROTHER, AS I WILL ONLY SAY THIS ONCE!! THE RULES OF THE GAME ARE: THE PERSON WHO IS IT WILL SAY, 'NEVER HAVE I EVER' ABOUT SOMETHING, AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER DONE SUCH A THING HAS TO DRINK!!"

 

You were pretty familiar with the game, and were already trying to think of something to say for your turn. You all took your glasses and sat in a circle.

 

"Ok, it was Frisk's idea so they can start!" Undyne directed.

 

The teen thought for a moment, then started to sign, with Alphys simultaneously translating, "N-never have they ever driven a car."

 

Everyone groaned and downed their drinks, while Frisk looked on smugly.

 

Papyrus was next. "NEVER HAVE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, EVER...DRIVEN A _BLUE_ CAR!!"

 

"That's not how it works, dork!" Undyne laughed.

 

"You must think of your own," Toriel explained gently.

 

"OH. WELL THEN...NEVER HAVE I EVER, AH. BEEN. TO...A HUMAN DOCTOR!"

 

You and Frisk shared a griping look as you drank, with Sans chuckling and commenting, "wow, bro. pick on the humans why don'cha."

 

"NYEH HEH, I AM MERELY SINGLING OUT THE MOST WORTHY COMPETITION!" His look was as sweet as it was devious as he waggled his eyebrows at Frisk, who grinned and giggled in response.

 

"Ok, me next!" Undyne thought for a moment, her eye narrowed in focus. "Never have I ever…spoken in public."

 

Toriel, Alphys, Frisk and Papyrus all took drinks, looking begrudgingly impressed.

 

"Ha! Got you, nerds! You're up, babe."

 

"O-ok, well, ah, um...Never have I ever, u-um, have I ever..." Alphys trailed off as a blush overtook her cheeks. "...B-broken up with someone?"

 

You tensed. You glanced at everyone's reaction before raising your cup, trying to be inconspicuous.

 

"Aw, babe!" Undyne threw back her glass before wrapping her wife in an aggressive hug. "And you never will!!"

 

"WHO DID YOU BREAK UP WITH??" Papyrus demanded. He hadn't drunk his.

 

"Muffet!" Undyne cackled. Her mirth turned to what looked like haggardness in an instant. "Yeah. Muffet. I tell you right now, if you're thinking of breaking up with her? Don't. It won't end well, trust me. I mean, thank goodness I did!! But man." Her face brightened again when she looked over at Frisk's empty glass. "Wait, what? Who??"

 

Frisk raised one eyebrow and pointed at Papyrus.

 

"AH! I SUPPOSE YOU ARE RIGHT! WE DID GO ON A DATE!" He downed his drink happily.

 

You wanted to ask about what led to a date between the two of them, but you were too nervous to draw attention to yourself. You hoped nobody was watching you as you hastily drank.

 

"So that's everybody right? 'Cept Alphys?"

 

Everyone? There were two people you hadn't checked. Toriel was wearing a somewhat guarded expression as she refilled her glass, and Sans had made his soda disappear without you seeing him tip it back. You tried not to stare curiously at the skeleton's blank face. _That's normal,_ you told yourself. _Everybody’s got a history. Don't be nosy. It’s none of your business._

 

"Nice job, babe!" Undyne looked at the circle with a grin. When her eyes paused on your glass, you felt your heart go cold. You shrunk back in your seat, keeping your eyes down and your breath held and hoping against hope that she wouldn't ask the obvious question.

 

"W-well, I knew it'd get most of you." Alphys' slightly proud stutter drew Undyne's attention away. "There's you, and I-I remembered Papyrus and Frisk, and of course there's...h-heh heh, ah." Her blush returned. She looked a bit sly, her eyes flickering between Sans and Toriel.

 

_Huh?_

 

Undyne covered her snicker, while Papyrus said too loudly, "AH, I'D ALMOST FORGOTTEN ABOUT THAT! HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN??"

 

"heh, uh, paps?"

 

"Like two years?? God, feels like forever ago!"

 

"AH, THAT'S RIGHT!"

 

"bro."

 

Frisk's expression was a bit nervous, their narrow eyes trained on their mother. You followed their gaze. Toriel's tight expression was unreadable.

 

"D-do you remember what we called them?" Alphys giggled, getting caught up in her wife's enthusiasm.

 

"OH NO, I'VE ALREADY FORGOTTEN! WHAT WAS IT?"

 

" _p_ _aps_."

 

Sans' tone was changing. You peeked at him and saw him wearing a tense grin, his eye sockets dark. He seemed to be leaning away from you, but was that just your imagination?

 

"I totally remember it! We called them Sori--"

 

"Undyne."

 

Toriel's soft but commanding tone was enough to quiet the room. Undyne, Alphys and Papyrus immediately looked guilty, shrinking under the ex-queen's disapproving stare. There were a few beats of uncomfortable silence, with you looking between everyone in confusion.

 

Before the atmosphere could get too heavy, Toriel continued in a calm voice, "I believe it is my turn." She swirled her drink deliberately, thinking. Her movements were small and natural, but you were struck by how controlled she was. Not for the first time, the word "regal" came to mind.

 

"Never have I ever...been _goated_ into playing a human drinking game."

 

All at once, the discomfort shattered as everyone either groaned or laughed. Undyne protested, "That's not even true, you're playing one right now?!"

 

Toriel looked pleased with herself as she giggled, defending, "Oh, I am sorry, dear, I suppose I was not cl- _ear_ on the rules!" She squeezed the ends of her long ears for emphasis, and you couldn't help laughing at her proud, silly smile. She had seemed downright upset just moments before, and yet she still had no trouble brightening the room with her humor.

 

"BUT THE RULES HAVE BEEN BROKEN!" Papyrus wailed. "THE GAME RUINED!!"

 

"dunno, paps. maybe you still have a _shot_ at winning." Sans raised his glass to his brother and grinned, his posture relaxed once more. You didn't miss the wink he threw toward Toriel when Papyrus lost it over the pun.

 

The game was soon forgotten as everyone devolved into friendly bickering, but you were still confused—not to mention relieved that the subject had changed before it could turn on you. You looked at Sans, at his empty glass and easy smile, and then turned to study Toriel. She noticed your gaze right away. Her eyes flicked almost imperceptively toward the short skeleton before falling back on you, accompanied by that knowing, now almost sympathetic smile.

 

Glancing once more at her shot glass, you realized that while the others had referred to Toriel as a “queen,” you’d never heard mention of an accompanying king. You desperately tried to remember if there was some kind of monster figurehead you’d forgotten about, but your mind drew a blank. You’d never paid much attention to politics, not matter how unusual or interesting the politicians might be.

 

But kings aside, what were those odd looks exchanged between Sans and Toriel? Why had everything gotten so uncomfortable? And why did Toriel keep looking at you like she understood something you didn’t?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who could have POSSIBLY broken up with tori. it's a real fuckin mystery, i tell u wut


	14. Chocolate or cinnamon?  wait that doesn't sound right, hold on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha HA, sneak attack update, gotcha bitches! >:D
> 
> Ok I can't tell you how friggin tickled I was at the comments on the last chapter, you guys are hilarious and I like your style. Been having a kinda lame week but ya'll made me smile so thank youuuuu

After a long night of over-analyzing, you were resolved to ask Toriel about everything at work the next day, but those resolutions were dashed when she got tied up grading papers during lunch. You were left to eat alone.

 

Until Frisk approached you with a serious expression.

 

You gave them an odd look. “Uh, everything alright?”

 

They sat down on the bench without taking their red eyes off you. They were clutching the straps of their backpack anxiously. Their mouth was scrunched up and you could see their jaw shifting, as if they were preparing to say something, even though you knew they couldn’t.

 

You glanced awkwardly between them and your sandwich. “H-ha, is there something on my face, or…?”

 

Finally, Frisk grabbed their notebook and started writing. **About yesterday.**

 

Your eyes widened. “Oh. Yeah, ok, I was actually gonna ask your mom about that. Did, uh…” You scratched the back of your head, knowing what you were about to say might be taboo. You wouldn’t even be asking if it wasn’t Frisk—you knew that of all people, they wouldn’t judge you. You’d spent all of the previous night making assumptions and you were in need of answers. “Did…did she and your, uh, _dad_ —I mean, if he _is_ your dad—have a falling out?”

 

Frisk’s face went slack and they blinked a few times. They went through a series of confused motions, first shaking their head and hands emphatically and writing **No no no that’s not** , then pausing and giving a few quick, affirming nods before scribbling, **Ok yeah yes they did but that’s not the point, that’s not who everyone was talking about.** They paused again, frowning. **That’s this whole other big thing so probably don’t mention it to my mom.**

“Oh.”

 

**No but YESTERDAY. It’s important. Mom’s not usually mad when people bring it up so it was weird but you should probably know cuz everyone else does and** — They stopped themselves and took a breath. You let out a little snort when you realized that you weren’t the only one with a tendency to ramble.

 

A few moments of quiet passed with Frisk looking deep in thought, and maybe a bit nervous. You raised a brow at them and said, “Are you gonna tell me, or…?”

 

With a huff, they turned toward you and started slowly signing letters. You squinted at them, trying to remember what they and their mom had been teaching you. “Uh, ok. Wait ok slow down.”

 

Frisk looked a bit impatient, but complied, holding each letter until you got it.

 

“Um…oh! Oh ok, ‘S.’”

 

They nodded grimly before proceeding.

 

“’A,’ that’s an easy one.”

 

They stopped to stare at you expectantly. When you still looked confused, they rolled their eyes and gave the next letter.

 

“Wait. Is…that’s an ‘M,’ right? No, no that’s ‘N.’ Definitely ‘N’ _oh my god I’m an idiot_.”

 

S-a-n-s. Sans and Toriel. Both of them, together. _Together_. Your body went slack as Frisk nodded sympathetically and patted your head. You could feel the shock rushing at you like a speeding truck, but the brakes were slammed when a high-pitched voice groaned, “Ugh, _finally_. I thought this nitwit would _never_ wise up.”

 

You froze. Your eyes darted to Frisk’s backpack.

 

Frisk’s face fell into nervousness as they brought the backpack to their chest, squeezing it tight. They shot you a look that once again begged for your secrecy. They almost looked protective.

 

“Ow, hey, stop it!” Flowey snapped from inside, his voice muffled. “You’re crushing me! It’s bad enough I can’t even _breathe_ in this thing!”

 

They opened the bag a crack and started giving the flower small, urgent signs, glancing from you to him. You picked up the sign for “mom” in the flurry of fingers.

 

“Are you just sneaking him out everywhere?!” you hissed, moving a bit to block Frisk from the other students’ view. “What if Toriel finds out?”

 

“Greetings my child, greetings Anaya!”

 

Speak of the devil.

 

Flowey yelped when Frisk snapped the zipper shut and shoved their backpack behind them. At the same time, you whipped around at Toriel’s voice and squeaked, “H-hey! Hi, we were just eating, that’s all!” You tried not to wince when Frisk gave your side a disapproving jab.

 

Toriel blinked, only slightly taken aback. “Oh, ah, that sounds nice.” She looked between your hopefully-not-giving-anything-away faces before continuing, “I am sorry I was unable to join you for lunch, but I do have a request for you, Anaya.”

 

“O-oh?”

 

She smiled warmly. “Perhaps this is a bit forward, but Frisk and I were planning on visiting the park after school and walking amongst the trees. The autumn leaves are quite lovely this time of year! Would you be at all interested in joining us?”

 

You heard Frisk’s backpack start to rustle, and you quickly replied, “Y-yeah, uh-huh, yes that’d be really fun, I’d love to!”

 

Your voice was definitely too loud. Toriel’s smile tightened awkwardly. “Ah, well, that is wonderful to hear.”

 

Blessedly, the bell rang, summoning Frisk and Toriel back to their classes. Frisk gave you a long, grateful look before scampering off to join their classmates. While their mom turned from you to give them a goodbye-wave, you glared pointedly at their backpack, a glare which they happily ignored.

 

“Then I suppose I will be seeing you after class!” Toriel chirped.

 

“Yup, looking forward to it!” You fixed a forced smile to your cheeks until she’d walked away, giving you one last kind glance before entering the school.

 

The bell rang again to signal the final call to the children’s classes, but you didn’t move. You had to finish your shift; you had to get back to work. Knowing this, you let your head fall back on the wall behind you, ran a hand through your hair, and stared blankly at the sky.

 

The shock had gone from a truck to a steamroller, slow and inevitable. You let out a hard breath, sliding your hand from your hair over your face, shaking your head. _Not a big deal,_ you tried to convince yourself. _Super tiny deal. They’re your_ friends, _and they totally had a life before meeting you. And you know what? You’re being dumb. So dumb. He’s not your… It’s not your place to be…_

_Jealous._

* * *

 

 

You took the hour between the end of your shift and the end of the school day to run home and change. When Toriel and Frisk met you at the door, you were dressed in jeans and a simple sweater, along with your too-big army green jacket. The late September chill was just starting to get to you.

 

Frisk looked excited to see you again, but as soon as Toriel turned her back to lead you down the street, they gave you a hard frown and pointed at their backpack, then drew their hand across their throat while shaking their head. You furrowed your brow and nodded in understanding.

 

“What a beautiful day to be outside!” Toriel sighed happily. You had to smile at the youthful way she walked: her chin was high and cheerful; her flowing skirt swished loosely with each step; and her arms swung at her sides carelessly. At this moment, she looked more like a princess than a queen.

 

_I can see why Sans would’ve wanted to—nope. No. We’re not going there. Nuh-uh._

 

You spoke up to stop the intrusive thoughts. “It’s nice.” If you were being honest, you didn’t get fresh air too often. You tended to only leave your apartment when necessary. “Where’s this park?”

 

“Oh, not far, a few blocks perhaps. It has many trees, a playground, vendors…” She winked back at Frisk. “Perhaps I can finally try one of those ‘funnel cakes’ you are so enthused about, my child!”

 

They grinned eagerly and licked their lips.

 

Toriel and Frisk told you about their school days on the way to the park. You listened and laughed with them, but you couldn’t always stop you over-active imagination. Thankfully they didn’t seem to notice your distress.

 

The park was decently vacant, with only a few kids playing and the occasional dog-walker. You all strolled through peacefully until you reached a sitting area. Sure enough, there were some carts selling treats, one of them advertising funnel cakes.

 

“Shall we, my child?” Toriel asked.

 

Frisk nodded, while you sat down at a bench and said, “I’ll just wait here for you guys.”

 

The teen started following their mother away, but they stopped, looking back at you uncertainly and holding their backpack tight. After another moment’s hesitation, they scurried back to you and held out the bag. You grimaced, but their eyes were so pleading as they glanced over at Toriel that you had to sigh and take it. You didn’t want them getting caught.

 

Once they walked off, you stared at the backpack distastefully, not sure how to hold it. You could sort of feel the round pot through the fabric, so you grabbed that and set it on your lap. You watched Frisk skipping toward the vendor’s line while Toriel read over the different flavors. You thought about Sans pulling out his wallet and treating her with a smile.

 

“Stop it stop it stop it,” you growled quietly, giving your head a few smacks.

 

“Wow, talking to yourself? So you have a stick up your butt _and_ you’re crazy!”

 

You sucked in a breath and sat up straight. You’d forgotten you weren’t alone.

 

“Hey, listen. Lemme out of here, ok? It’s hot and stuffy and Frisk always leaves a bunch of sticky candy in here, it’s gross.”

 

You clutched the pot a little tighter and ignored him. You didn’t feel scared—especially with Toriel and Frisk so close by—but you hadn’t forgotten how spiteful the flower could be. Sans’ warning not to mess with him was still fresh in your mind.

 

“Helloooo? Can you hear me? I knew you were dumb, didn’t know you were deaf, too!” You could feel him pushing against the sides of the bag. “Lemme out lemme out _lemme out!_ ”

 

He was whining loud enough that you worried someone might hear him. With a defeated groan, you opened the zipper a crack and hissed, “Alright, fine, just keep it down. I’m not taking the fall if Toriel finds out you’re here.”

 

Flowey forced his way through the little opening before you could stop him, sticking out his blossom and taking a dramatic breath. You cursed and tried to hide him while he gasped, “Jeez, _finally_ , took you long enough!”

 

“ _Shoot_ , crap, shut up!” You quickly shoved him on the bench next to you so your body blocked him from Toriel’s view. She and Frisk were still deciding on what to order. “Get back in there, someone’s gonna see!”

 

“I was being suffocated!”

 

“Pretty sure flowers don’t need to _breathe._ ”

 

“Like _you_ would know!”

 

“ _Ssh!_ What if Toriel finds out you’re here?”

 

“Psh, you think I’m scared of her?” Flowey scoffed.

 

You gave him a dubious look, remembering the heat of her fire-breath. “What, you’re not?”

 

He looked like he wanted to retort, but instead he sneered and turned away, glaring out over the park. As discreet as he tried to be, you could see his eyes constantly flicking back toward Frisk. One of his leaves tapped the edge of the bag impatiently. Was he nervous?

 

You sat back with a sigh. You really didn’t want to engage the annoying plant, but you ended up muttering, “They’ll be back in a minute. Calm down.”

 

“I’m calm!” he snapped back, his face suddenly twisting into that ugly expression he’d scared you with over a week ago.

 

You were much less impressed this time. You just shrugged. “If you say so.”

 

“Hmph!” His blossom fell back against the edge of the bench, like he was sulking. “Stupid humans. Walking around in their stupid _parks_ , with their stupid _dogs_ , and their stupid _faces._ ”

 

“Your best friend is human.”

 

His scowl deepened. “That’s different.”

 

You were silent for a few more moments, pointedly ignoring Flowey and instead taking out your phone. You had to hide your sudden rush of pleasure when the first thing you saw was a new text from Sans.

 

***hey i have a human question for u**

***is there a song about skeletons and how theyre spooky scary**

***cuz like at least 4 kids going thru the haunted house sang it at me today**

You couldn’t stop the snort that forced its way out.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

You suppressed a smile and rolled your eyes, doing your best not to acknowledge the flower.

 

“Hey, don’t ignore me!”

 

With a frustrated groan you muttered, “It’s nothing.”

 

“Pft, what, did funny-bones text you or something?”

 

You bristled and finally turned to glare at him. He wore a smug, condescending smile. “You two are getting pretty cozy, huh? Holding hands at the planetarium, canoodling in the kitchen…”

 

You stood suddenly and faced Flowey with your fists clenched, surprising him. His eyes shot toward Toriel and Frisk, who were paying for their cakes, and he said, “H-hey, get back down, they’ll see me!”

 

Narrowing your eyes, you took your seat and took a breath. “That’s what I thought.” He looked grouchy over your sudden show of anger, and promptly turned away to pout. “Not that it’s any of your business,” you grumbled, “but we’re just friends, alright?”

 

“Duh. I know,” he muttered bitterly. “I know everything.”

 

“Sure you do.”

 

“I’m serious! Frisk tells me everything!” he griped. “They told me about your jobs, and about how they’re teaching you to sign, and about your secret power…”

 

“Wait, _what?_ ”

 

Flowey tensed a bit. He must’ve let that slip on accident. You weren’t upset at the thought of Frisk revealing your synesthesia to him, but you were surprised. It they didn’t even want to talk about it to their own mom, why were they willing to open up to the mean little flower?

 

Feeling awkward and a touch invaded, you said, “It’s…it’s not a power. Everyone calls it that, but it’s nothing.”

 

Unexpectedly, he was quiet. You risked a glance at him and saw an entirely new expression. He looked ponderous. Several moments of uncomfortable silence passed, until he muttered, “What’s their color?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You heard me. What is it?”

 

You were confused. He wasn’t whining. He wasn’t insulting you. His voice still carried its usual peevish tone, but the question sounded earnest enough.

 

You considered for a moment before answering, “Red.”

 

He nodded. “Right.”

 

Your confusion grew. “What do you mean ‘ri—‘”

 

“What’s Goat-mom’s color?”

 

“’Goat-mom…? I-I, I don’t know, why do you care?” You were starting to feel a little on edge from the conversation’s new direction.

 

“What’s _my_ color?”

 

You froze. Flowey had another new expression. He was frowning, which you were starting to see as his “true” face, in opposition to his deceptive smile. He was looking at you from the corner of his eye with prickly uncertainty. His petals even drooped a bit. He seemed…unhappy. Genuinely unhappy.

 

“Why do you wanna know?”

 

He imitated your voice obnoxiously. “ _Why do you wanna know, blah blah blah,_ just tell me!”

 

You were so caught off guard that you automatically started to concentrate. You turned more toward the flower and let yourself focus, squinting your eyes and finding that familiar center that helped you _feel_ peoples’ colors, and…

 

You balked. You covered your mouth with one hand and flinched back, breaking your focus and staring at Flowey in repulsion.

 

Nothing. There was _nothing_. This wasn’t like Toriel, when you hadn’t been able to see her color but you could still feel her life, her personality. This was different.

 

Your mind flashed back to a time years ago, a memory of you as a child. You were in the vet’s office with your parents. They were crying and looking away, but you had your hand on your dog’s flank as the doctor gave her an injection that made her chest stop moving. You’d concentrated. You’d squinted. You weren’t usually able to see the color of animals, but you’d seen hers. You’d known her well enough to know that she was a warm, playful orange, but slowly, you’d watched that color drain away. Her eyes were glazed over, and when you tried to see her, all you could feel was her absence.

 

That’s what this was. An absence. A gaping hole. Not a color, but a _wound_. The fierce shock of it left you as quickly as it came, but you were still staring tensely down at Flowey, your eyes wide.

 

He looked rattled. “What? What is it?” His face became annoyed when you didn’t answer, and he pressed, “Well, are you going to tell me or not?!”

 

You remembered how Sans had described Flowey. _“Not a person.”_ You were starting to wonder just how true that statement was.

 

“You…you don’t have one,” you said eventually, your voice surprisingly calm. “Sorry.”

 

You couldn’t quite read his change in expression—something between disappointment and complete lack of surprise—as he leaned back once again and sighed. “I knew it.”

 

“Look, I’m sorry, I don’t know why—”

 

“I knew you were a total _fraud!_ ”

 

You blinked indignantly. Flowey had regained his typical, grating grin and was smirking up at you, any shred of honesty lost completely.

 

Before you could retort, you heard Toriel trill behind you, “Anaya, do you prefer chocolate or cinnamon?”

 

You whipped around to see her and Frisk carrying back three funnel cakes. The teen had already tucked into theirs, but their messy face fell when they saw you weren’t holding their backpack. You looked quickly back at Flowey, but he’d already retreated into the bag.

 

Toriel was smiling at you expectantly. Swallowing your misgivings, you picked up the backpack and passed it to Frisk, much to their relief. You grinned back at Toriel and answered, “Cinnamon sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok for those of you worried about relationship drama, PATIENCE. Nye Nye the science guy hasn't had the chance to talk to Tori about it yet. have faith.


	15. Greasy Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updates got a little weird! My husband and I were frantically working on cosplay over the last two weeks so I didn't have much time, but it should be back on track now.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos! ;u; I seriously wish I could reply to every one of you wascally wabbits. You should totally pop over to tumblr and shoot me some asks, that way I can gush right back atcha.

You picked at your funnel cake as you followed Frisk and Toriel to the playground.  Human and monster children alike played with each other, fresh out of school.  You even recognized a few of Frisk’s classmates.  When they started waving for them to join in, Frisk waited for their mother’s smiling approval before running over.  They were careful to move their backpack to their chest and keep it steady

 

You and Toriel sat at a nearby bench.  The goat monster passed you her cake once you were settled, looking sheepish as she admitted, “I am not terribly fond of fried food, but I did not want to offend Frisk.  Would you like it?”

 

You didn’t want to seem greedy, but the cakes were delicious and you were hungry.  You were also, unfortunately, feeling incredibly awkward now that you were alone with Toriel. 

 

“Sure!  Fried pastries are my jam _,_ yo,” you said with a stupid chortle.  _Why_ , you asked yourself, _are you_ incapable _of speaking like a normal person._

Despite your internal embarrassment, Toriel was giggling.  She quipped, “Well, I am certainly glad you are having _fun_ -nel eating them!”

 

You felt some of the tension loosen while you laughed together.  You were reminded that even if you’d just learned something about her past that was unexpected and a little hard to grasp, she was still just Toriel.  Her past relationships didn’t change the fact that she’d been nothing but a good friend to you, always funny, kind, and accepting.

 

_Actually those’re probably the qualities that made Sans want to—dammit, STOP._   Luckily, the goat monster didn’t notice you shoving cake in your mouth with new vigor to try and shut your brain up.

 

There was a stretch of silence as you ate and Toriel watched over Frisk.  She wore a peaceful smile, her eyes moving from the kids to the surrounding trees as she sighed.  You followed her gaze and realized she was right; the leaves _were_ beautiful.  It was that time of year just before they were ready to fall, and they painted the entire park with colors that were ripped straight off a sunset.  Just looking at them gave you a feeling of serenity.

 

But your brain wouldn’t leave you alone.  Questions were burning in your throat as you munched on the greasy cake, questions you didn’t have the courage to ask.  Inquiries about Sans, about the apparently tricky subject that was Frisk’s father, and about the odd looks she’d been giving you.  Not to mention the memory of her strange reaction to your synesthesia, all the way back when you’d first met.  That particular question had pricked at you for weeks.

 

You swallowed, took a breath, and spoke up.  “Hey, Toriel…”

 

At the exact same time she began, “Anaya, I…”

 

You both snapped your mouths shut and looked at each other in surprise.

 

“S-sorry, you go first!”

 

“No, no, my dear, I did not mean to interrupt, what were you going to say?”

 

“I-it was nothing, really, you go ahead.”

 

You both had to pause and smile at each other’s fumbling.  It was hard to feel too uncomfortable when she looked at you with such earnest apology.

 

Finally, Toriel cleared her throat and said, “Very well.  Anaya, I wanted to apologize for yesterday.  We must have made things terribly awkward for you.”

 

“O-oh, awkward?”  You swallowed again.  “It wasn’t, really, I had a nice time.”

 

“Indeed, Alphys picked a wonderful outing!  But some of the questions brought up by our friends…I understand if they seemed invasive.”  Her kind eyes turned on you intently.  “You are not obligated to speak about your past.”

 

You tilted your head.  This wasn’t the direction you were expecting.  “Huh?”

 

“I could not help noticing your discomfort during…ah, what was it called?  Something Have Not Ever…?”

 

My _discomfort?_ you thought in confusion.

 

“Well, regardless.”  Toriel placed a huge paw on your knee and smiled.  “I understand what it is like to wish to remain private.  There are some things that are not meant to be revealed for the sake of a drinking game.”

 

You shook your head slowly and apologized, “I-I’m sorry, I’m not actually sure what you’re…what part of the game are we talking about?”

 

She blinked.  “Oh.  Forgive me, I suppose I was not concise.  I am referring to the question Alphys presented, about ‘breaking-up.’”  She pulled her paw away, looking a bit embarrassed.  “You seemed disturbed, but…ah, please excuse me, I am only increasing your discomfort.”

 

Your eyes widened.  You remembered the way you’d tried to be discreet, how you’d dreaded anyone asking you to share your story, but apparently you hadn’t been discreet enough.  “Oh.”  Your heart lurched.  “Right.  That.”

 

Her face fell at your expression.  “Goodness, what a foolish old woman I am,” she fretted.  “I am truly sorry, Anaya.  I only wanted to make it clear that you need not feel uneasy, but I have only made matters worse.”

 

“No, no, it’s ok,” you reassured, giving her a weak smile.  She was dangerously close to opening a very, very tight lid, and you knew you weren’t ready for it, but there was no point in lying at this point.  “I…um…yeah.  I didn’t want to talk about it.”

 

“I understand.  Again, I apologize.”

 

“It’s really ok.”

 

You were quiet after that.  You weren’t prepared for any of this to come up.  Toriel watched you for a few moments with an unreadable expression, and then turned back to watch Frisk play with their friends.  You clenched the bench seat and tried not to let your anxiety show.  You’d been expecting her to bring up Sans—that would’ve been embarrassing, but this was worse.  You had to say something, divert the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the two of you.

 

“The leaves really do look pretty.”  You tried to sound chipper, but your voice cracked a bit.  You let your head fall back to look up at the fiery canopy.  “I don’t get out enough to see them.”

 

“Mm.”  Toriel copied your position.  You spared a glance toward her—you still couldn’t decipher her pensive face.  “They are truly lovely.”

 

Nope.  Still uncomfortable.  You mentally scrambled to think of something else to talk about, but after a few moments she quietly spoke up again.

 

“I can relate, you know.”

 

Her voice had a different softness to it.  You turned your head to her.  She was smiling and once again watching the children, but she looked melancholy.  The light breeze ruffled the fur on her head and pushed back her long ears, exposing the side of her throat.  For the first time, you noticed a light scar cutting up from her jaw, almost obscured by the surrounding fur.  The pale color of it was so familiar to you.

 

Toriel met your eyes.  “I do not much like talking about those chapters of my past, either.”

 

You swallowed.  Again, she was straying too close for comfort, and yet…there was something in her wise, crimson gaze that made you feel safe.  Hesitantly, you muttered, “…Bad breakup?”

 

She heaved a sigh.  “You could say that.”

 

“Is that why…last night, you got…”  You blushed in chagrin and turned away.  “S-sorry, you just said you don’t like talking about it.”

 

“When I halted their teasing, you mean?”  She raised a brow at you and gave a wry smile.  “Oh, no.  That was for an entirely different reason.”

 

Your confusion returned.   _Ok, so she’s not talking about Sans.  He wasn’t a “bad breakup.”_ You weren’t sure if the realization made you feel better or worse.

 

“That was for your sake, my dear.”

 

“Um.”

 

You weren’t sure what she meant, but heat rose to your cheeks when she fixed you with another look that was like she _knew_ something about you, something that drew a secretive smile over her muzzle and crinkled her eyes with humor.

 

Toriel retained that look as she casually smoothed out her skirt and waved to Frisk, who was hanging upside down from the monkey bars—you could almost hear Flowey’s protesting shrieks.  “Oh, and there was one other thing I wanted to ask you, Anaya.”

 

Still blushing, you said, “O-oh yeah?”

 

“Mhm.”  Her expression was perfectly controlled, a practiced mixture of calm and reassuring.  So you were caught off guard when she asked, “Did Flowey give you too much trouble today?”

 

_What?_  

 

“What?” you repeated out loud.  Confusion and panic clogged your throat.  Toriel was just watching you from the corner of her eye, mostly unreadable, but you thought she might be trying to hide a smile.  “Wh…who?  H-ha ha, who’s F-Flowey…?  I mean, uh…”  You deflated and fell silent, then asked in a small voice, “How’d you know?”

 

Toriel finally burst out laughing.  Your cheeks went dark red, and she quickly composed herself and chuckled, “Oh my dear, the look on your face!  I am so sorry, that was unkind of me, was it not?”

 

“I-I’m just…seriously, how did you…?” you stammered, flabbergasted.

 

“I am a mother and a teacher.  It is a difficult task to slip things by me,” she replied, her voice light.  “And Frisk has been doing this for, oh, I do not know…a year, at the very least.”

 

The monster didn’t seem upset that you’d acted as her child’s accomplice, but you were chagrinned all the same.  “Oh…oh man, I’m—I’m really embarrassed.  I-I should’ve told you right away, when I knew they’d snuck him out, that’s…I don’t know, that’s dangerous, right?  Jeez, I feel bad, I’m sorry, I—”

 

“Anaya, please, it is alright!” Toriel laughed sweetly.  “You did not want to get them in trouble.  That is noble of you, in a way.”

 

You blushed again.  “’Noble’ doesn’t sound quite right.”

 

“Perhaps not,” she chuckled.  She sighed, looking out at Frisk with a tender smile.  “I confronted them the first few times it happened.  I was so worried when I realized they were keeping secrets from me.  Hurt, even.  But…I suppose I have slowly come to understand why they do it.”

 

You glanced at Frisk.  They were palling around with their friends, laughing and acting goofy, but the teen’s hands were still wrapped securely around their backpack; around Flowey’s pot.  “Why’s that?” you asked, looking back at Toriel.

 

“The same reason that has enabled them to accomplish so much.  They truly, fiercely believe they can make a difference.”  Her eye shone with pride.  “Who am I to question that?”

 

Toriel’s soft expression kept urging you to open up to her.  Scuffing your feet nervously, you admitted, “You know, uh…I actually met Flowey a while ago.  When I first had dinner with you guys?”

 

Her smile faltered a little.  “Ah.  Yes, I suspected.  That night, Frisk was…shaken.  I hope he did not…”

 

“Oh, n-no, he didn’t hurt me, he just startled me, that’s all,” you assured.  You still couldn’t help shuddering at the memory.  “He’s…a bit testy, isn’t he?”

 

“A bit, yes,” Toriel sighed.  “Quite a bit.  I apologize.  That must have soured the evening for you.”

 

You shook your head.  “I still had a lot of fun.”

 

She smiled appreciately, but her eyes had taken on an edge of concern.  “It is…worrisome at times.  He has shown only minimal progress.  He does not act out nearly as often, and almost never in public, but…seeing his occasional relapses makes it difficult to continue giving my child their space.”  She put a hand over her heart as she gazed out at Frisk.  “I may not trust Flowey, but I trust Frisk.  At least, I am trying.”

 

“That must be hard,” you murmured sympathetically.

 

To your surprise, she shook her head.  “No.  Trusting them is not difficult.  They are more than capable of accomplishing their goals, but…seeing them so disheartened at his lack of growth…that is hard.”

 

While she spoke, Frisk was grinning and signing to their friends with one hand, the other still placed over their bag.  Some familiar instinct caused you to focus on them, and even from a distance you could sense their flaring red aura.  In this moment, they didn’t look disheartened at all.  They were still the brightest person you’d ever met. 

 

“Honestly?” you started with a smile.  “I may not know you guys too well, but I think if anyone can change him, it’s Frisk.”

 

When you turned back to Toriel, she was watching you intently, her hand still on her chest.  You swallowed at the eye contact.  Her face was similar to what it had been when you first demonstrated your synesthesia in front of her, but she couldn’t have known you’d just ‘looked’ at Frisk.  Could she?

 

Slowly, a gentle smile returned to her snout.  “Thank you, Anaya.  I think you may be right.”

 

You felt a slight wash of relief as you turned to watch the kids play.  You were both quiet for several moments, simply enjoying the fresh autumn air and the sound of human and monster children laughing together.

 

“Anaya?”

 

“Yeah?”  You glanced at Toriel, who was still facing the playground.  Her eyes looked distant and thoughtful.

 

Another quiet stretch.  You started to feel awkward, until she said, “I have asked this once before.”  She met your gaze with a deep, scarlet stare.  “What is my color?”

 

Your heart thumped.  Was this a coincidence?  The topic coming up now, after you’d just turned your synesthesia on Frisk?  It had to be.  Nothing but a disconcerting coincidence.

 

“I-I told you,” you stuttered, feeling suddenly on the spot.  “I…I just couldn’t see it.”

 

“Would you try again?”

 

There was something in her eyes you couldn’t interpret.  A strange insistence.  You swallowed again.

 

“…Ok.  Sure.”

 

You turned up your hands.  She placed her velvety paws in them.  For some reason, you felt more nervous now than you had at any point in your conversation.  You felt like this gesture might have more weight than you could realize, and you still couldn’t understand why.  You let out air you didn’t know you were holding.  You closed your eyes for a beat, willing the jitters away.  You looked up at her.  At her chest.  You squeezed her hands a bit, squinting, furrowing your brow.

 

At first, it was the same result.  Nothing.  Not like Flowey, but like something invisible.  You frowned in frustration and glanced up at Toriel’s face, apologizing, “I’m sorry, it’s still…wait.”

 

It was there, like curtains being pushed away to reveal the sun.  She was soft, calming, regal, and maternal.  She was like fog painting a mountain range at twilight, she was something royal and wise, she was the hanging clusters of wisteria your mother used to grow over the patio when you were a child.  Your face lit up in victory as the sense of “lilac” sunk into you.

 

“Purple!” you exclaimed.  “I got it, it’s purple!  Gosh, it’s…it’s so pretty.”  You realized you might be a bit too enthusiastic.  You quickly released her hands and scratched the back of your neck.  “Ah h-ha, sorry, got a little carried away there.  B-but I could tell this time!”  You weren’t even sure why you felt so proud of yourself.

 

“Purple?” Toriel repeated softly.  She was looking at you with a mixture of…well, you weren’t sure what.  Something kind, something quiet, something firm.  “Yes.  That does sound about right.”

 

Once again, you had no idea how to gauge her reaction, but at least this time she didn’t look disturbed.  “Just don’t know why I couldn’t see it last time.  It’s weird.”

 

“Perhaps it is because…”  Toriel placed a paw over your hand.  You blushed to see her looking at you with the warmest smile she could offer.  “…We know each other a bit better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plot heavy, whoops
> 
> I LOVE writing Toriel. I love Toriel.


	16. Xtreme Facebook Stalking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, suffered some BOGUS writer's block for this chap.
> 
> ALSO. I broke down. I went back through the entire goddamn fic and changed Sans' dialogue to lowercase. It was bugging me so much. That's how it's gonna be from now on, i don't give a fuck, it looks a billion times better.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments you cabbage patch kids, every time I wake up and see someone saying something nice about this dumb story I get all sortsa misty eyed.

Going home that night, you felt better than ever about your relationship with Toriel, but you were still frustrated.  Your mind was buzzing with unanswered questions.  So you decided to turn to the most reliable, unbiased source you could think of: the internet.

 

Opening your browser, you felt a twinge of hesitation.  When monsters first emerged, your entire world had changed--more than it ever had--but that didn't mean your life changed.  You'd remained the same antisocial workaholic who moved more often than would be considered normal.  Plus, you hadn't been living in Ebott at the time, so there was a bit of distance between you and the earth-shattering news.  You didn't know the specifics of how it had initially gone down.

 

You realized you were putting yourself in a blue-pill-red-pill situation.  You could either close your laptop and continue going off of the friendships you were starting to build with the monsters in your life, untainted by human opinion, or...

 

With your mouth set in a determined line, you typed "monster ambassador."  As expected, images and articles about "Frisk Hoepfull" popped up.  They looked much younger than you'd remembered, even younger than a typical ten year old.  Shorter, scrawnier, cropped hair, and in some cases, dirtier.  You frowned; they looked so much healthier now than they had then.  You assumed those pictures must have been taken very soon after they'd emerged with the monsters in tow.

 

Most of the article titles seemed placid, to your relief, but you were still worried about what you might find.  You clicked the most reputable source you could see and skimmed through the story.  It was a straight account of that first contact, when the general population was just too shocked to react one way or the other.  The monsters had been confined to the mountain for a month or so while negotiations were hashed out between the species' leaders.  You winced slightly as you remembered that time--it hadn't taken long for the louder groups to start lashing out in fear and intolerance.  You hated to admit it, but even you'd had your doubts about full integration of monsters and humans.

 

Scrolling through images, many included your friends standing at Frisk’s side.  You found Papyrus standing at podiums beside the child, striking his customary poses; Undyne carrying Frisk on her shoulders, decked out in impressive armor and speaking with a very nervous looking reporter; even Alphys, fretful and a bit sweaty, seemed to have joined in helping the little ambassador with their speeches.  You swallowed at the realization that your friends weren’t just any monsters.  They were the representatives of _all_ monsters.  For the first time since meeting them, you felt a little star-struck.  You also took note that the only person who was never in pictures was Sans.  Somehow, it didn’t surprise you that the lazy skeleton wouldn’t put much effort into public relations.

 

You moved on to your next search: "monster leader."  You had to blink in confusion at the pictures of a surprisingly familiar white face.  He had long ears, tall curled horns, and a blond beard accompanied by a mane falling thick around his shoulders.  "Asgore Dreemurr."

 

You covered your mouth in shock.  He looked just like Toriel.

 

Everyone had referred to Toriel as a "queen."  Was this the absent "king" you'd wondered about?  The one Frisk had warned you against mentioning?  Frowning, you searched his name specifically and scrolled through links.  Sure enough, almost every article about Dreemurr mentioned Toriel at least in passing, but you couldn’t get detailed information.  You did learn that she was his ex-wife; she was private; she never spoke to reporters; she was never referred to as a fellow leader.

 

Your curiosity was deteriorating into nosiness.  Ignoring the voice in the back of your mind that told you not to keep digging, you typed in "Toriel Hoepfull."

 

 _It's just like Facebook stalking,_ you reasoned with yourself as the articles poured in.  _Everyone googles their friends every now and then.  It's not weird.  I'm not being weird._

 

There weren't very many pictures to go on.  Most of them seemed candid; very few had Toriel looking directly at the camera.  You quickly zeroed in on one photo accompanied by an article that gave you a flicker of hope.  It was Toriel and Frisk standing proudly in front of a red-brick building, cutting a ribbon and smiling.  The title read, "First Co-Species School Opened in Ebott."

 

You skimmed the article, your heart warmed by the positivity.  The project had apparently gained support from the majority of the community, even if funding had been hard to come by.  It was a story of accomplishment achieved through sheer cooperation.  There were more pictures of human and monster children standing in front of the school with their parents.  Everyone looked so happy; you couldn't help sighing in relief.

 

That relief wilted when your eyes flickered to one of the suggested articles.  "She-Monster’s Battle for Custody Continues."

 

That cautioning voice grew louder as you clicked the link.  The header image was one of Toriel sitting in a courtroom, her head buried miserably in her paws.  Your stomach twisted.  You felt sicker and sicker as you picked up on key phrases.  _Interspecies adoption...orphan to be placed in state custody...protesters gathered at the steps...suspected kidnapping_.  Your whole body flinched at the last one.  You scrolled down farther, revealing an image of a scared, tearful Frisk being ushered out of the courtroom by a police officer, with Toriel reaching out helplessly to her child.

 

Instinctively, you closed the browser and slammed your laptop shut.  You'd seen something that was not at all meant for you.  You felt a wash of shame.  This was much, much worse than Facebook stalking.

 

You sat there for a few moments, trying to remind yourself that, obviously, everything had turned out fine for your friends in the end, when the buzz of your phone distracted you from your discomfort.  You swallowed guiltily as you saw that there were three new messages from Sans, as if he'd caught you red-handed.  You'd completely forgotten to reply to his texts from earlier.

 

***ok i looked up the song**

***not bad but pretty inaccurate**

***whole sarcophagus thing is 4 mummies. but i guess we r silly so points 4 that**

 

You had to smile, the disturbing articles fading a bit.

 

***Are you so misunderstood?**

 

You snickered to yourself until he replied.

 

***hell ya**

***we only want 2 socialize**

***y is that so hard 2 understand**

 

You had to cover your mouth to contain the snorts and giggles.  Nestling back into the couch cushions, you grinned at the phone screen as you kept going back and forth on the lyrics.

 

***You've already proven the spooky scary part.  I met you in a haunted house after all.**

***ya sorry 4 sending shivers down ur spine**

***It's ok, you were only being semi-serious. ;D**

***lol nice**

***oops am i keeping u up**

***Uh no, why?**

***cuz i seldom let people snooze**

***Hahaha, ok, that was pretty good.**

***no but rlly gotta talk 2 u l8r**

***im like half asleep**

***Oh ok**

***I promise I won't wake you with a boo**

***hey not cool thats cultural appropriation**

 

You burst out laughing once again, a blush overtaking your cheeks.  You were almost able to forget your regrettable googling in favor of talking to him, right there, right then.  Did you really need to know about your friends' rocky past to appreciate the people they were now?  The people you looked forward to seeing every day?  The people who didn't pry about your own past?  Even the knowledge of Sans and Toriel—as shocking as it was—didn’t seem to matter so much.  He was your friend.  You were going to try harder to have confidence in that.

 

You grabbed once again for your laptop.  With a smile and a lingering blush, you searched, "songs about skeletons."

 

* * *

 

 

That weekend, you went to your first shift at the comedy club and were a bit disappointed not to see Sans onstage.  At closing time, as you were gathering your jacket and bag, you texted him:

 

***You got the night off, huh?**

***yup**

***got plans 2nite**

More disappointment.  You went out the front and frowned as you started up the stairs.

 

***Sounds fun!  Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow night then?**

***idk might have plans then 2**

***see theres this human**

***shes cool but she works l8 so i always gotta walk her home**

You froze at the top of the stairs, staring at the text in confusion.  His familiar, unexpected chuckle made you yelp and almost drop your phone.

 

Sans grinned deviously from the bus stop, phone in hand and a teasing glint in his eyes.  You tried to look annoyed, but the smile you just couldn’t contain betrayed you right away.  “You _tricked_ me.”

 

“hey now,” he snorted, walking toward you.  “no tricks involved.  just being honest.  gotta walk a cool human home.”

 

The casual compliment made your chest swell.  You’d had a few days to process the news about him and Toriel, but you’d still been worried about seeing him now that you knew.  Would you overanalyze and make things awkward?  Would it be all you could think about when you looked at him?  But no, you realized now those fears had been groundless.  He was still here with you.  He was still smiling at you in that way that made your thoughts lose track.  Nothing had changed.

 

“Well I mean, that’s really nice of you, it’s just…”  You knew you wouldn’t be able to finish the joke with a straight face, but you didn’t care.  You started snickering even before you continued, “I’ve got plans too.  I’m supposed to meet up with a cool monster right about now.”

 

You both started to walk as he played along.  “oh yeah?  what’s his name?  maybe i know ‘im.”

 

“Oh, nah, you wouldn’t,” you said around a barely-suppressed smile.  “He’s kinda funny.  Drinks ketchup.  Bald.”

 

“nope.  doesn’t sound familiar.”

 

You giggled and nudged him with your shoulder, using the motion as an excuse to walk a little closer.  Your grin became a bit more subdued as you pointed out, “You know, I can always take the bus if you’re not already working.  I don’t want you to go out of your way.  Plus it’s late…”

 

Sans shrugged.  You noticed his expression droop a fraction.  “’s no big deal.  don’t want you out all a- _bone_ this time of night.”  He wiggled his phalanges for emphasis.

 

You snorted, but the joke felt a little forced.  “Ha, yeah, I guess.  I mean, I like walking so I don’t mind, just…y’know.  Don’t feel obligated.”

 

“walking’s nice,” he agreed.  “and I go to bed late anyways.”  It looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he kicked a bit of gravel in front of him.

 

It suddenly clicked.  This was the first time he’d shown up to escort you home when he hadn’t performed, and you were pretty sure you knew why.  You turned to him fully and finally noticed the way his pupils were flicking more frequently to the dark alleys and the still-open bars, the way he walked a little straighter than usual, which almost brought him up to your height, and the way his hands weren’t sitting comfortably in his pockets.

 

You were quiet for another moment, not sure if you should bring it up, but you finally muttered, “Ah…yeah.  Know what?  You’re right.”

 

He glanced at you quizzically.

 

“Don’t really wanna be out alone.  Not this late.”  You gave him a quick, grateful look.  It was a little embarrassing to admit, but all night at the club, you’d been subconsciously on the lookout for the guy who’d harassed you last weekend.  You hadn’t thought about him actively, but maybe the experience had shaken you more than you’d realized.

 

Any bad memories were banished when you felt Sans move just close enough that your arms were pressing lightly against each other.  That buzzing sensation that was starting to feel familiar tingled through your bicep—you could always feel it through his clothes, a cushion between fabric and bone.  You wondered why that was.

 

“like I said.  no big deal.”

 

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, Sans relaxing enough to put his tuck his hands in the front of his jacket and you letting the pleased expression sit unchecked across your face.  It had only been a few days, but already, you’d missed being alone with him.

 

“so, uh.”  He spoke up.  He looked casual, but there was the slightest hint of blue below his eye sockets.  “you got anything before work tomorrow?”

 

“No, why?”  You prayed your voice didn’t sound too hopeful.

 

“i got a shift at the haunt during the day, and, i dunno, i was wondering if…”  He shrugged and flashed you a lazy grin.  “maybe you’d wanna tag along?”

 

You blinked.  “Uh.  You mean, like, while you’re working?”

 

“yeah.”

 

“Is…is that allowed?”

 

“guy i work for is chill, he wouldn’t care.”  His face fell a bit, like he just realized something.  “oh.  wait, if that sounds, uh, stressful or anything, uh, just forget i—”

 

Your eyes widened in reassurance as you said, “No, no, that’s not…I think it’s only scary, like, if I’m on the receiving end?  If that makes sense.”

 

He relaxed again.  “definitely does.”

 

“So, uh…if you’re sure it’d be ok, then yeah.  Yes.  Let’s do it.”

 

Sans grinned, looking genuinely excited and making your knees wobble.  “cool.  pick you up at two then?”

 

“Sounds cool!” you chirped, the excitement showing on your face as well.

 

“cool cool.”

 

“Temperate.”

 

“heh, yeah.  hella temperate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she went deeper down the rabbit hole OR THE MONSTER HOLE IF YOUKNOWWHATI'MSAYINHAHAHAHAHAHAH


	17. Naya Looks Super Gross The Whole Time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter?? Whaaat? What is this witchcraft

Papyrus pulled up to your building in his red convertible the next afternoon, Sans slouching in the passenger’s seat.  You dashed down the stairs to meet them, feeling a little self-conscious about what you were wearing.  You’d donned one of the few skirts you owned—a long, loose thing, blue and plain—and a tight shirt.  It was a step up from your usual wardrobe.  Some silly part of you had resolved to look nicer for this one-on-one hangout, but the part of you that thought it was a dumb idea had grabbed your usual baggy army-green jacket to cover it all up.

 

“YOU LOOK VERY PRETTY TODAY, HUMAN!” Papyrus proclaimed as soon as you got in the car.

 

You blushed.  The doubt ebbed a bit at his earnest compliment.  “Th-thanks, Papyrus.”

 

Sans grinned back at you.  “ready to get spooky-scary?”

 

“Wait, am _I_ doing any spooking?” you asked, slightly alarmed.

 

“heh.  dunno.  maybe you could bring out your inner skeleton.”

 

“Uh, ok, I know what you meant but that sounds…really painful.”

 

“SANS, THAT IS VERY RUDE!” Papyrus snapped.  “DIDN’T YOU KNOW HUMANS PREFER TO KEEP THEIR SKELETONS _INSIDE_ THEIR BODIES??”  He leaned a bit closer to his brother to hiss, “THEY ARE _PRIVATE_ SKELETONS.”

 

You slapped a hand over your mouth to contain the laughter, not wanting to offend Papyrus.  He started driving while Sans chuckled, “sorry bro.  i’ll try not to scare her outta her skin.”

 

* * *

 

 

As you pulled up, you realized the haunted house was much less intimidating in daylight.  It was still decently busy—it was almost October, so you assumed people were already getting psyched for Halloween. 

 

You and Sans waved Papyrus goodbye, then the skeleton started leading you away from the main entrance toward a nondescript side door.  As you passed the long line of patrons, those who noticed Sans giggled and pointed in excitement, some trying to push their more-scared companions toward him.  Your friend didn’t seem to notice, but you couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable.  It was like he was just a spectacle to these people.

 

“So…you’re sure you won’t get in trouble?” you asked uncertainly.

 

Sans held the door open for you and winked lazily.  “nah, we’re good.  clark is a nice guy.  worst thing he’ll do is give you uncomfortably long hugs.”

 

“Clark?” you repeated.  Entering the building, you saw it was a well-lit dressing room, with a couple vanities on one wall and a huge rack of costumes on another.  One corner of the room was purposed with chairs, couches, a TV and a mini-fridge.  Any atmosphere created by the haunted house’s exterior was ruined when you saw zombies and murderous clowns relaxing in the break area, chatting and checking their phones.

 

“You rang?”

 

You turned at the sound of a deep, melodious voice.  A giant man with a full beard suddenly popped out from behind the costume rack, his eyes and smile bright.  His gaze fell on Sans first, and he greeted, “Hey there, Sanso!  Is it time for your shift already?”

 

“yup.  how’s it been today?”

 

“Busy as hell!” he replied cheerfully.  He finally turned to you, emerging fully from the costumes.  He was at least six foot four, with broad shoulders and hairy arms that were contradicted by his sweet expression.  “And what’s your name?”  His face suddenly fell into concentration.  “You’re not one of the new hires, are you?”

 

“N-no, sorry, hi, I’m Naya,” you stammered, offering your hand.  “I’m just Sans’ friend, sorry, yeah no I don’t work here ha ha.”

 

Instead of taking your hand, Clark wrapped you up in an enthusiastic hug, almost lifting you off your feet.  You were ruffled when he let you go and gushed, “It’s so great to meet you, Naya!  You want a job?”

 

“U-uh, huh?  Job?  Wh…?”

 

Sans looked entirely at ease as he put an arm around your shoulders and said, “she’s good, clark.  she’s just gonna stick with me today.”

 

He looked disappointed for a split second, but then his face split in another friendly grin.  “Can we dress you up at least?  Pretty please?  You’ll love it, nothing better than scaring the shit out of a buncha teenagers.”

 

“Um, I—”

 

Before you could protest, he was leading you by the shoulders toward a vanity, pressing, “Ok, maybe not a costume, but _at least_ let me do your make up!  You’d make a seriously _adorable_ zombie.”

 

You were plopped down in a chair.  A touch panicked, you turned to look at Sans helplessly, who looked torn between sympathy and amusement.  Wincing, he tried to say, “heh, uh, clark?  maybe ease up on the creepy stuff?”

 

“Psh, nonsense, who doesn’t love creepy stuff?”  He froze in the middle of setting out his makeup, and then turned to you and pouted.  “Unless…do you…not want to?”

 

He looked so sincerely disappointed.  You were caught off guard.  Without thinking, you reassured, “O-of course I do!  Yeah, yup, totally would love to be zombified.  Go for it.”  You shot Sans a shrug and an open-minded smile.  It would be more than you’d bargained for, but hey, who didn’t like getting their makeup done every now and then?

 

Clark looked delighted.  With a practiced flourish, he draped you in an apron and grabbed an airbrush, grinning from ear to ear.  “ _Ha,_ yes, finally!”  He jerked a thumb toward Sans and rolled his eyes.  “This guy doesn’t ever _need_ the makeup, so boring.”

 

You were shocked at his efficiency.  After just a few strokes of the airbrush, a couple blots of thick, sticky paste, and a squirt of black cake dye that you were told to swish around your mouth, you were finished.  Sans had been watching the process with a steadily growing grin.  When Clark finally spun your chair around to let you see yourself in the mirror, you gasped and had to resist bringing a hand to your face.

 

You looked…awesome.  Completely unrecognizable.  He’d somehow made your cheeks look haggard and your eyes look sunken.  Gore covered the corners of your mouth, and when you parted your lips, your teeth were black and grimy.  You may not have been into haunts and scares, but something about seeing yourself look absolutely terrifying gave you a thrill.

 

You grinned appreciatively at Clark.  “Holy crap, this is…how’d you do that so fast?”

 

He twirled his airbrush on his finger like he was in a spaghetti western.  “Practice, my friend.  Hours of practice.”

 

You turned to Sans and gestured enthusiastically to your face.  “Dude, are you seeing this?”

 

“wow.  gotta say, that’s pretty spooky scary.”  He was smiling and studying your makeup in a way that made you blush, which was ridiculous.  He was staring because you looked like the undead, not because he found it cute.

 

“Alright you crazy kids, go scare some patrons!” Clark laughed, removing your apron and gently shooing you both away.

 

You didn’t get a chance to thank him again before you were walking through another door into a locker room.  You had to put actual effort into not grinning, as the motion stretched your makeup, but you were still feeling oddly giddy.

 

“Ok this is really cool but…I don’t actually have to scare people, right?”

 

“heh, nah, leave that to the professional spookers,” he chuckled, shrugging off his jacket and putting it in a locker while tossing you a wink.

 

You started to giggle, but the sound turned into a bit of a choke when Sans casually started pulling away his shirt.  You instinctually looked away and went bright red.  You’d seen him shirtless before—hell, that’d been the first time you’d _ever_ seen him—and it probably didn’t even hold the same significance.  But now you knew him.  You knew him, and he had the frustrating ability to make you blush over any little thing, and here he was.  Stripping.  Right in front of you.

 

“uh, something up?”

 

You forced a glance.  He was quirking a brow at you and shoving his shirt carelessly in with the jacket.  Deliberately keeping your eyes on his face, you replied, “H-ha, no?  I’m just…a little nervous I guess.”  Not a complete lie.  He just didn’t have to know exactly _why_ you were nervous.

 

His face softened a bit with sympathy.

 

_Nope, no, not helping._

“hey, don’t worry.”  He walked over and took your hand as naturally as he had at the planetarium.

 

_Really, **really** not helping._

“i gotcha.”

 

_Fuck._

 

He started to lead you toward the exit while you focused very, very hard on not letting your eyes wander, and were your hands sweating?  They were definitely sweating, he was holding your sweaty palms and you were alone together and he wasn’t wearing a shirt and why couldn’t you just be cool about this and—

 

“’s gonna get dark from here on,” he said.  “lemme know if you’re not feeling it, alright?”

 

“Mkay, yup,” you squeaked in response.

 

He was right—as soon as you stepped through the door, the hallway was pitch black.  He produced a flashlight from his pocket and led the way, whispering, “we have to be quiet through this part.  walls aren’t exactly sound proof.”

 

You followed in silence, and the lack of conversation was not in any way helping your frantic thoughts.  _He’s a skeleton,_ you told yourself.  _He’s that model I sat next to in high school biology._ Except he wasn’t that at all.  He was alive, and your friend, and the person who occupied more of your mind than you cared to admit.

 

“and here we are.”  Sans pulled aside a dark tarp and pulled you through.  You blinked a few times to try and adjust to the dark, but you recognized the room right away.  It was the same place you’d found Sans that first night you’d gone to the haunted house—bare save a single, dim light bulb.  You could hear the muffled sounds of creepy music and high-pitched screams coming from all sides, but your lack of anxiety proved your theory that being part of the attraction sapped any sense of fear.

 

Casually, Sans went and assumed his regular position against the wall, and then patted the space next to him.  You swallowed, steeling your nerves before sitting next to him.  This was fine.  You could be calm.  The room was pretty dark anyway—it was much easier not to stare.

 

Sans gave a lazy wave and said, “tada.  here it is.”

 

“So, uh…what do I do when people start coming in?”

 

“we have a cue.”  He pointed above the entrance you were both facing.  You squinted through the shadows and finally noticed what looked like an unlit warning light sitting right above it.  “that comes on when the group’s almost through the other room.  you can hide in that corner when it lights, watch the show.”

 

You nodded to yourself.  “Good.  Cuz I’m pretty sure I’m not cut out for spooking.”

 

“dunno.  clark really outdid himself with your makeup.  pretty sure you could at least get a gasp outta some teenagers.”

 

You scoffed and nudged him a bit.  The motion made his lack of clothes even harder to ignore—you’d started to expect the feeling of that odd tingle when you touched him, but now there was only bone.  It somehow felt more personal.

 

You had to keep talking or you’d just start sweating again.  “Clarks nice, by the way.  He’s your boss, right?”

 

“yeah, he’s a cool guy,” Sans chuckled.

 

“Not really what I expected.”  You felt a little embarrassed to add, “Honestly, I kinda had my doubts about this place.  The ads are…insensitive, I guess?”

 

“y’know, i thought so too at first.  but i ended up knowing a couple of the monsters working here, and they told me how awesome clark is.  he pays us better than most people would, and any monster who wants a job gets one.”

 

“That’s actually amazing.”

 

Just then, the red light above the door gave a few quick blinks.

 

“welp, here they come.”  Sans slouched a bit more and winked at you, nodding toward the corner he’d shown you earlier.

 

You went and stood back in the shadows, listening as the teenager’s voices grew louder and louder.  Sans’ head was slumped and his eye sockets had gone dark.  You felt your cheeks grow hot as you realized that this viewpoint made it impossible not to look lower than his skull.  You just couldn’t stop yourself from studying him.  His ribcage was different than a human’s—his ribs were fewer and thicker, curving out more to give him a wider silhouette.  His arms showed the same differences; wide, sturdy bones that made him look fuller than a human skeleton.

 

Finally they came through, and sure enough, they didn’t notice you at all.  Your eyes must have completely adjusted at this point—you watched in perfect clarity as they shoved one of their nervous friends toward Sans, snickering and daring her to touch him.  Once again, you felt that twinge of discomfort.  They were gawking at your friend like he was some prop.

 

That discomfort quickly turned to suppressed laughter when Sans grinned up at them with a casual, “sup.”

 

You could hardly hold it in as you waited for them to rush fearfully out of the room.  As soon as it was clear, you broke down and staggered toward Sans, shaking your head and gasping, “That was _so goddamn funny._ ”

 

“see?  us skeletons are naturals at spookin’.”

 

Still snickering, you sat back down next to him and teased, “And I thought you were just getting by on looks.”

 

“that too.”  You hoped you weren’t mistaking the brief flash of blue on his cheekbones at that.

 

You spent the next few hours like that, alternating between sitting and chatting and then trying not to giggle at Sans scaring the pants off of the various groups wandering through.  Every time you stood in that corner, you felt a bit more comfortable at the sight of him.  It wasn’t weird.  It was just his body, and it was starting to look normal to you.

 

“does that makeup feel as gross as it looks?” he asked at one point.

 

“Surprisingly no,” you laughed, tapping it a bit.  “Once it dried it was pretty easy to forget about.”

 

You almost recoiled when he reached out toward your face.  You managed to stay still and casual as he ran a light finger over the chunks of fake blood caked by your lips, but your pulse was hard and rapid.

 

“huh,” he muttered.  He lingered for another breath before pulling away, giving you a curious look.  “doesn’t that feel weird?”

 

“What?”

 

“the stretching.”  He grabbed one of his hard cheeks and tugged on it to demonstrate.  “the skin and stuff.”

 

“I guess not?”  You tilted your head at him.  “I can honestly say no one’s ever asked me that before.”  Your face continued to burn as you muttered a return question.  “Does, um…is it weird for you?  Your whole situation?”

 

“’situation?’” he repeated with a laugh.

 

“I don’t know, all that!”  You gestured to his face and glared jokingly when he continued to cackle at your fumbling.  “Your skull, or whatever.”

 

He suddenly took the hand you were indicating with.  You tensed as he brought it closer to his face and raised a questioning brow.  It seemed like a silent invitation.

 

Hesitantly, with his phalanges still wrapped loosely around your wrist, you reached toward him.  You brushed against the side of his skull, near his eye sockets.  The bone was smooth and warm, just like his hands.  Swallowing, you let your fingertips move lightly toward his cheekbones, feeling every strange divot and edge.  At this distance, you could see the hinge of his jaw, but it blended in more seamlessly than any typical skull.  You sucked in a breath when his grin stretched, molding the bone under your fingers without making it feel pliable.

 

“Woah,” you breathed.

 

He stayed quiet as you got a bit more absorbed, letting more of your hand fall on his face.  Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you ran your thumb over the teeth at the corner of his mouth.  You froze when he let out a short breath, tensing a bit under your fingers.

 

“Sorry, was that—”

 

“no, heh, uh…just feels kinda weird.”

 

He didn’t seem uncomfortable, so you continued looking at him, the wonder overcoming any awkwardness.  Somehow you had the confidence to look a bit lower, though you didn’t move your hand.  He had all the parts you’d learned about in school: a sternum; vertebrae from his neck down his spine; and you could see shoulder blades through his ribs.  That was so strange, being able to just see through him, yet it didn’t make him seem any less solid.   Even stranger was the slight undulating motion of his ribcage as he breathed.

 

“I mean…it’s crazy, I can’t even tell how you’re moving, is it more magic, or are there, like, muscles in there, or…”

 

You trailed off.  At this distance, you could see something new.  Cutting across the front of his chest, moving over the ribs and sternum in a continued line, was a gash.  It was shallow enough that you couldn’t have noticed at a distance, but obvious enough not to be natural.  Spiderweb-cracks ran a bit from its edge, like cracked ice.  It looked like a wound.  _Maybe_ , you thought, your brow knitting in concern, _a scar?_

 

You opened your mouth to ask about it, but froze at the look on his face.  Something new, something that dimmed his usual grin.  His fingers had tightened slightly around your wrist.  For the first time, you noticed the lights of his eyes fixed on you.  Not on the makeup, but on your own eyes, and all at once you found yourself unable to look away.  You realized that you were feeling that familiar buzz under the hand on his face.  You realized the darkness made things seem so much more isolated.  You realized you were both very, very close…

 

The light flashed and you heard screams approaching.  You simultaneously jerked away from each other, both giving a few hoarse laughs before assuming your regular positions.  You hoped he wasn’t noticing the way you clutched your chest as he scared the group coming through, or the way your hands were shaking, or the way you couldn’t quite bring yourself to look at him again. 

 

_What_ , you wondered numbly, _was that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naya gettin her makeup done is based on something me and my husband did recently called The Walking Dead Experience. It's a super rad touring haunted house/adventure thing where you can either go through as a survivor, OR get dressed up as a walker. Now see, I hate haunted houses. Hate them. Nothing scares me more. Naya gets it from me. So me being a walker and my husband being a survivor was the perfect solution, and let me tell you, it was amazing. Seeing him so genuinely caught off guard in perfect, eyes-adjusted-to-the-dark clarity saved our marriage. 10/10 would spook again.


	18. ASSHOLE: The Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks so so much for all the support you blunderbusts! :D

The rest of your time at the haunted house felt different.  Not blatantly, not in a terrible way, just…something had obviously shifted.  You didn’t look at each other when you talked, and you kept the subject matter shallow.  Occasionally when you were standing in the corner, you thought you’d catch his pupils on you when they were supposed to be dark, but they’d flicker out before you could know for sure.  You had no idea if the changes were imagined or one-sided.  Were you the only one distancing yourself?  Was he even noticing?

 

_…Was he really looking at me like that?_

When Papyrus picked you up, he gave an indulgent scream at your makeup and scolded Sans on not keeping his promise (“OBVIOUSLY SHE WAS SCARED AT LEAST _PARTIALLY_ OUT OF HER SKIN, SANS.  JUST LOOK AT ALL THE BLOOD!!”).  You’d laughed with the brothers and recounted how hilarious it was to see people getting spooked, but still there was that feeling of change, that memory of his face being close enough for you to feel his breath.  It made it really, really hard not to blush and stutter every time Sans glanced your way.  You were getting frustrated.

 

So when they dropped you off and Sans bid you farewell with a stupidly tantalizing, “see you at work, bud,” you had to give yourself a shower pep-talk.

 

“Okay.  Right.  Okie doke,” you muttered as you scrubbed away the goopy makeup.  “Let’s just say it out loud.  Outright.  No more beating around the bush, we’re saying it.  I like him.  There.  Okay.  It’s been said, got that squared away.  And we’re good, we’re fine, nothing’s changed, I’m fine.”  You thought of the motion of his shoulders as he took off his shirt.  “It’s fine.”  The way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around your wrist, gentle yet deliberate.  “We’re fine _._ ”  The proximity of your faces as he looked at you in a way you _craved_ to understand.  “Everything’s _fine._ ”

 

You got out of the shower.  You wiped the fog from the mirror.  You braced your hands on either side of the sink and looked at yourself helplessly.  Your cheeks were red from the hot water and the face-wash and the private, stupid, insistent embarrassment broiling in your stomach.

 

“…I like him,” you whispered again.  No one was there to hear the confession, but your voice still squeaked with shyness.  “I like him.  Shit…”

 

How had that even happened?  The attraction had always been there, even since that first night, you realized that now.  There was something in you that just _reacted_ to him, but the doubtful part of your mind couldn’t grasp _why_.  He was a monster!  A month ago, you’d never even _spoken_ with a monster, and the first one you had any interaction with somehow brought out a side of you no human had seen in years.  _How?_  What was it?  Was it his fixed smile?  His cringe-worthy sense of humor?  His voice, that low rumble that could be at once so casual and so alluring?  Those tiny glimpses of sadness, of softness, of nostalgia that made you want to know everything about him?

 

It was all those things, you realized, and with that realization came an unbidden twinge of fear.  With your hair slicked back with water and your face clean, that thin, pale mark on your forehead stood out like a beacon.  You stared at it and were brought out of your head and back to your cautious reality.  You were reminded not to get romantic, because just look at how that’s worked out for you in the past.

 

You hated this part of yourself.  Not the part that wanted him—no, you wouldn’t pretend you hadn’t missed that feeling—but the part that refused to just let you enjoy it.  You’d spent all this time trying to escape your past, but here you were, frowning at that scar and still dealing with the same old demons.

 

“I like him.”  Your own voice surprised you.  There was something rebellious in the words, something that made your gaze flick from the scar to your eyes.  You could still feel that shift from earlier, and it served as a brighter reminder.  “Fuck it, I like him.” 

 

You were sure he’d never hear the words.  You were sure he wouldn’t say them back.  But for now, maybe you could find some comfort in saying them out loud.

 

 

You’d just been with him a couple hours ago, but as you served tables at the comedy club and waited for Sans to walk out on that stage, you felt impatient to see him.  You clapped excitedly along with everyone else when he strolled on with those pink slippers and that lazy demeanor and _god_ , you liked him, had you said that enough?

 

He got started with a new set, and it was all you could do to devote any attention to your job as he made you laugh and smile up at him with as much affection as you could allow.  Occasionally, his pupils would sweep across the room and find you, and you hoped you weren’t imagining the way his grin would stretch.

 

You were watching him, a grin plastered over your face and laughter waiting just behind your teeth, as you stopped at a table and asked distractedly, "Any drinks tonight?"

 

"Wow, not even a 'hello,' huh?"

 

You tensed at the familiar voice, and finally looked down at the person you were serving.  Smirking up at you with his sleek suit and a smug angle to his brow was the man who'd harassed you a week ago.  Your smile dropped a bit as you met his eyes.  The show and your surroundings faded into the background as you tried to think of the politest way to excuse yourself and never, ever interact with him again.

 

When your silence stretched on too long, he pointed at you and narrowed his eyes, saying, "It's Anaya, right?  I never forget a name attached to such a pretty face."

 

You couldn't suppress the frown that darkened your face.  He was still trying to flirt.  How had he not gotten the hint?  "Um," you started hesitantly.  "I...can I get you anything, or...?"  Dammit, you were bad at this.

 

"I should be asking you that," he chuckled.  "Maybe you're not supposed to be drinking on the job, but if you want to play hooky, I'm buying."

 

Unconsciously, you glanced quickly at Sans, as if he could somehow rescue you like the last time.

 

“Enjoying the show, huh?”

 

You didn’t like the way he was watching your friend’s performance.  He was unthreatened, demeaning, almost sympathetic.  Who did he think he was?

 

“Pretty hokey for my taste, but hey, it’s a novelty.”  He turned back to you with a slight wince.  “Listen, you and funny-bones aren’t really…?”  He left the question open, and punctuated it with a look like he was asking something so unbelievable that he would never expect a yes.

 

Already feeling sensitive and defensive, you reflexively muttered, “We’re just friends.”  You regretted it the moment you saw victory light up his face.

 

“Right.  Didn’t think so.  You don’t seem like the type, you know?”  He rolled his eyes. 

 

 _Type?_   No, you didn’t know, and now you were offended.  You had to get out of there.  Running away wasn't the bravest or most customer-friendly way to get out of this, but if he was going to keep talking about Sans like this, you were going to say something rude.  Even your anxiety couldn’t quell the anger building in your gut.  You turned to leave and get one of your coworkers to serve him instead.

 

"Hey, c'mon, wait a minute."

 

He grabbed your wrist before you could walk away.  You snapped back toward him and felt a wave of discomfort as his fingers held you fast.  You realized in surprise that the feeling of his soft, distinctly human hands was somehow unfamiliar and unpleasant.  He was squeezing the same wrist Sans had with hands that were lined with squishy flesh, and it was making you sick.

 

"Listen, I’m sorry.  I was a jerk before," he sighed, looking almost embarrassed.  You just narrowed your eyes as he continued, "I can be a real ass when I've had a few drinks, I'll admit it.  Let me make it up to you.  Let me get you a drink."  His smile was apologetic.  Calculated.

 

"I really can't," you replied.  You were discouraged at the lack of bite in your voice.  "I have other tables..."

 

"Just a quick drink!"  He tightened his fingers around you.  "C'mon, I'm saying I'm sorry, sit down and have a drink with me."

 

His grip stirred something in your chest.  You tensed, straightened your back, and felt a pounding start to build inside you.  Unintentionally, you brought forth that practiced concentration that let you feel colors, and as you suspected, his wasn’t pretty.  Green that might have been bright and springy at one point, but was now sickly and tinged with gray.  You’d seen ugly colors before—you’d even seen colors go from vibrant to dull over time—and, in your experience, it was always a reliable reference for the person’s character. 

 

For some reason, your eyes flicked to the glass of water in front of him.  Laughter rolled around you as the show carried on.

 

He made a little motion forward, waiting for a response.  "Well?" he laughed, not shedding one bit of his confidence.  "Here, know what?  Let's just start over."

 

He slid down from your wrist to your hand.  You took in a sharp breath as the pounding spiked in insistency.  You remembered this feeling, equal parts strange and familiar.  You remembered the locked door, just a few slams from swinging wide open.  "Let go, please," you asked quietly.  When he didn't, you felt a bit of the weirdness leak and pool in your chest.

 

"At least let me introduce myself!" he insisted with a grin.  He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.  Distantly, you noticed the quiet that had befallen the room.  "I'm Cody, and you are by far the prettiest waitress in this whole place.  Have a drink with me."

 

It wasn't a question, and he still wasn't letting go.  You looked once again at his glass of water.  A braver side of you fantasized about throwing it in his face for a split second, so your chest responded.  The scrap of your mind that was still rational recoiled at the feeling of something that was new but so clearly part of you moving outward, toward the glass, spurned by that disgusting glint of teeth peeking out from his smirk.

 

Suddenly, the glass tumbled like it was falling, but it kept falling, sideways, until it smacked Cody in the chest and soaked his crisp silk tie.  The strangeness snapped back into you and you blinked, your mind clearing the moment he released you and jumped back with a yelp.  You stared at the overturned glass in confusion, then it registered more strongly that the crowd was silent.

 

You turned to look up at Sans.  He was looking at you, too.  His grin was strained and his pupils were mere needle points in his eye sockets.  You could see the tension gripping his entire body and you knew, without a doubt, that he'd seen everything.

 

Soon an uncomfortable murmur swept through the crowd.  Sans twitched a bit, his pupils darting almost imperceptibly toward Cody (who was cursing and doing his best to blot himself dry), then back to you, and then he melted back into his slouch like nothing had happened.  He gave his audience a nonchalant shrug and drawled, "whoops.  sorry folks.  guess i was just _bone-ing out_ for a second there."

 

Tentative laughter met him, and it didn't take long for him to ease them back into his routine.  You stared up at him numbly for a few more moments before giving the glass another look.  _Sans did that,_ you realized.  _That was him.  That wasn't..._

 

"Are these tables uneven or something?" Cody grumbled, glaring down at the china like it would jump up and bite him.

 

"I guess so," you muttered back.

 

“Ah well.”  He flashed you a confident smile and decided, “Guess we’ll just have to head to the bar.”

 

You were too unnerved for tact.  You didn’t even look at him as you turned and went toward another table, desperate for any kind of escape.  You heard him laugh after you, “What, giving me the cold shoulder again?”

 

It was much easier to act normal for your regular clientele, but all night, you felt him watching you.  Like he’d said, he went to the bar, apparently knowing that you usually helped serve there later in your shift.  You couldn’t even enjoy the rest of Sans’ act.  You didn’t notice where he went once his final round of applause tapered out, but your feet instinctively carried you closer to the stage, a bit away from the dining floor.  You needed him.  You were drained and confused, and you didn’t care about trying to distance yourself.  You needed a friend.

 

“hey.”

 

You turned and saw him emerge from backstage, feeling the tension ebb instantly.  “Sans, did you—”

 

“Naya, could you c’mere for a sec?”  Your heart sunk at the voice of your supervisor, who was waving at you from the other side of the bar.  He looked a bit overwhelmed.  “We’re a little short tonight, think you help us out back here?”

 

You nodded without thinking, but your eyes darted to Cody.  He was leaning on his elbows with a patient grin.  Waiting for you.  You already felt so, so tired of dealing with him, and you still hadn’t had time to process whatever strange thing had just passed between you, Sans, and the water glass.

 

Turning back to Sans, you sighed helplessly and muttered, “I-I guess…we’ll just talk later, after my—”

 

He didn’t say a word as he suddenly took your hand and led you toward the bar.  That last bit of residue sickness drained away at the feeling of his hard, warm fingers in yours.  His expression was blank and relaxed as he led you past Cody, not even sparing him a glance, and then he dragged you behind the bar.  Some of your coworkers gave him incredulous looks, but since he was a popular performer (and technically an employee), they didn’t dispute it.

 

You stared at him in surprise when he let you go.  He leaned on the back counter, out of the way but still present.  Still with you.

 

“go ahead,” he said evenly.  Without changing his face, his pupils dimmed and finally slid over to Cody.  The man visibly stiffened as Sans added in a low, deliberate voice, “i’ll be right here.”

 

It was awkward at first, but you couldn’t deny that having Sans there just felt safer.  You did your job without worrying about Cody lurking on his barstool, waiting for an opportunity that your friend wasn’t going to allow.  After a few minutes, it almost became comfortable.  The patrons were delighted to see the skeleton as they ordered their drinks, and he charmed them and the bartenders with his easy humor.  You found yourself laughing along with everyone else when he’d slip a pun into the conversation, and at one point, you realized Cody had left.  The feeling of unwelcome eyes was gone, and you could finally relax.

 

Soon your shift was winding down, and it got slow enough that your manger let you go early.  You and Sans left together, bidding everyone cheerful farewells after a work night that, considering everything, had gone pretty well.

 

It wasn’t until you were out the door and on the street that you allowed your exhaustion to show.  Your body as well as your face wilted.  You didn’t know where to begin.

 

“we need some kinda code.”

 

You tilted your head blankly.  “Wh…huh?”

 

Sans looked as casual as ever, strolling alongside you with his hands in his pockets.  “y’know.  some kinda red alarm type thing.”

 

“Uh…for what?”

 

“i was thinking like…code asshole, or something like that.”

 

Your face went slack.  “Code asshole.”

 

“or code dick-face.  code fucker.  i’m flexible.”

 

You stared at him.  He slid his pupils toward you with a sly grin, but when he saw the look on your face, his expression fell a bit.

 

“heh, yeah.  not that funny, huh?”

 

You tried to smile.  His face fell even more.

 

“hey, listen.  sorry you have to deal with shit like that.  really.  i…”  He scratched the back of his neck.  “i kinda feel useless.  heh.  wish there was something i could do to—”

 

“That was you back there, right?  The water.”  You’d stopped, facing him.

 

He met your eyes quietly for a moment.  His face took on a subtle hardness before he replied, “yeah.  sorry.  couldn’t just watch while he…touched you.”  He sighed.  “heh.  yeah, look, not trying to make you look bad or anything, but i—”

 

You cut him off with a sudden hug.  You didn’t care about distance, you didn’t care about guarding yourself.  You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your face fall against his shoulder and breathed in the smell of his hoodie.  It took him a moment to react—he was tense against you, and the buzzing under his fabric flared to a harsh vibration for the briefest of moments, but then his arms were on your back.  He pressed you to him gently.  He wasn’t keeping you there, he wasn’t restraining you; he was just with you, quiet and warm and solid.

 

It didn’t last long before you pulled away again, your movements hasty.  You hid your blush behind your hair as you murmured, “Thank you.  Again.  God, I’m…I’m pretty useless without you.”

 

“that’s what friends are for, right?”  Sans took your hand and started walking.  You were embarrassed and emotionally raw, yet he still managed to make the gesture feel natural.  “i got your back.”

 

You sniffed, not crying, but a little closer than you’d like to be.  “I got your...sp…spine?”

 

He laughed and squeezed your hand at the same time, bringing a smile unbidden to your lips.  This felt better.  This felt right.

 

A few more moments of amiable silence passed between you, before you mused, “I think I like Code Asshole, to be honest.”

 

“right?  has a nice ring to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see my personal choice woulda been "Code Gives-Really-Weak-Head" but y'know to each their own


	19. Whoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I love you guys so much, it's ricockulous, your lovely comments get me through the day yo. Thanks so much you zodiac killers

"Laser tag!!"

 

"L-laser tag?"

 

"LASER TAG??"

 

"Ah, laser tag, how unusual!"

 

Undyne was staring up at the warehouse-like building with a manic grin.  Alphys cowered nervously beside her, fretting with the strings of her hoodie.  Papyrus, wearing retro bell-bottoms and a loose, flowery blouse, was squinting up at the sign in confusion.  Toriel was smiling down at Frisk, part uncertain and part trying-to-be-a-good-sport, while the teen looked like they might soon explode from contained excitement.

 

"C'mon, nerds, it's MY Sunday!"  Undyne started dragging her wife inside and waving insistently to the rest of you.  "No more learning stuff!  Today we're SHOOTING each other with LASERS, woo!!"

 

You all followed with mixed emotions.  Besides you, this would be everyone's first time, so while your companions didn't seem to know what to expect, you were absolutely jazzed.

 

"should we be worried?" Sans chuckled, walking beside you at the back of the group.

 

"Yeah," you replied.  "Worried I'm totally gonna beat your bony butt."

 

The night before, after you'd managed to relax after your weird, stressful work shift, Sans had asked you to once again join them for a Sunday outing.  He'd described it as an "open invitation."  You could hardly accept that you'd always be welcome to hang out with this group of long-standing friends, but when you'd arrived that morning, everyone had been undeniably happy to see you.  It was almost like they'd been expecting you.

 

When Undyne revealed her choice for the day, you'd shared a delighted gasp with Frisk.  You had several fond memories of playing laser tag in sticky, smoky, shadowy courses, but you hadn't had a reason to go in years.  Frisk, on the other hand, had wanted to go their entire lives.  They'd been borderline emotional at the prospect of finally fulfilling that dream.

 

Now you were grinning at the teen as they sprinted directly to the check-in counter, pounding insistently to catch the attention of the clerk.

 

"Wait for me, my child," Toriel laughed after them.  She shot you a fond smile and beamed, "I have not seen them so impatient in quite some time!"

 

She, Undyne and Alphys joined Frisk to pay the admission fee, while you stood back with the skeleton brothers.  Papyrus was still uncomprehending.  "I DON'T UNDERSTAND," he said while stroking his chin.  "I THOUGHT THAT LASERS WERE DANGEROUS.  WHY WOULD HUMANS CHOOSE TO ENGAGE IN SUCH VIOLENT ACTIVITIES??"

 

"It's not a real laser," you explained.  "It's just like...a sensor?  You wear these special vests that can tell if the laser 'hit' you, and you try to get points and shoot each other and stuff."

 

Papyrus blinked and broke out in a grin.  "AH, OF COURSE!  WHAT INGENIOUS TECHNOLOGY!  IT'S AMAZING THE CREATIVITY YOU HUMANS MUST EMPLOY WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE MAGIC OF YOUR OWN!!"

 

He trotted off to the others while Sans snorted, "so i guess you're a veteran?"

 

"It's been awhile, but yeah.  I had a laser tag place near where I grew up.  I'd go like every weekend." 

 

"dang.  my bony butt doesn't stand a chance."

 

Your nostalgic smile collapsed into a wince as you amended, "Uh, actually, now that I think back on it, I was...terrible.  Wow.  Yeah, pretty sure I didn't win a single game.  So I wouldn't be worried.  Like, at all."

 

He laughed and patted your shoulder, saying, "now's your chance for redemption.  your honor _lasers_ in the balance."

 

"Pft.  No pressure or anything, right?"

 

You joined everyone just as they were choosing their code names.  Undyne was shouting, "Woah, we can pick any name we want?!"

 

The attendant looked nervous as she replied, "Um, sure?  Just keep it PG."

 

The fish monster looked intensely serious as she bent down and clasped Alphys' claws in her own.  "Babe, I want to be Utena.  Would you...be my Anthy?"

 

The lizard's eyes widened and a ferocious blush overtook her cheeks.  You suddenly felt like you were watching a romantic, cheesy, way-too-sparkly anime as she stuttered, "Y-yes...I-I'd love to!"

 

Undyne grinned, picked up Alphys in one arm, and then flexed victoriously with the other.  "You heard the lady!" she shouted at the attendant.  "Utena and Anthy are gonna conquer this game with the POWER of LOVE!!"

 

Frisk tugged Toriel to the counter, while the goat monster shook her head and said, "Oh, I am not very creative when it comes to names, my child.  Would you choose one for me?"

 

The teen's grin widened in agreement.  They turned to the attendant and started signing something, while Toriel translated, "They would like my name to be...oh.  Ah, 'Goat...Mom?'"

 

You remembered Flowey referring to her by the same title, and now you could see who they got it from.

 

"And they would like to be..."  Toriel's eyes brightened and she covered a giggle with one paw, finishing, "'Determination.'"

 

Alphys made a little choking noise at the sound of that, while Sans ruffled Frisk's hair and chuckled, "figures."

 

"OH, OH, I KNOW WHAT I WANT TO BE CALLED!!"  Papyrus pushed to the front and almost threw himself over the counter, looming over the sweating attendant with a smile.  "COOLSKELETON95!!"

 

"That's what you ALWAYS choose!" Undyne cackled.

 

Papyrus looked indignant.  "IT'S A GREAT NAME!  PERFECT FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!!"

 

Sans was next.  It took him all of one second to think of his name.  "sans is fine."

 

"BROTHER!  THAT'S NOT A CODE NAME, THAT'S JUST YOU BEING LAZY!!"

 

He shrugged.  "you got a point there, bro.  how about you choose for me?"

 

Papyrus' face went from enthusiastic to thoughtful to stumped in no more than a breath.  "AH.  WELL, I SUPPOSE THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH SANS.  IT IS FITTING!"

 

You were giggling at their antics, until Sans stepped back and said, "you're up, pal."

 

"Oh.  Right."  You suddenly felt self-conscious as you approached the desk.  You had a code name you'd always use as a teenager, but it was a little embarrassing.  Dropping your voice, you leaned toward the clerk and muttered, "Uh...can you fit, um...Nye-Nye the Science Guy?"

 

Sans was the only one who heard you.  His grin was ecstatic as he said, "holy shit."

 

"Don't make fun of me."

 

"is that of the 'bill' variety?"

 

"Dude, don't make fun of me!"  But you'd already forgotten your embarrassment in favor of laughter.

 

"i'm not.  i'm jealous, honestly.  that's perfect."

 

You all started moving toward the course's entrance, along with a few other groups of humans who regarded the monsters with uncertainty.  Walking into the "loading deck," everything was instantly familiar to you.  The corny sci-fi designs on the wall were illuminated by black light, vests and guns with flashing lights were hanging along one wall, and the strong smell of artificial smoke brought back a flood of memories.  You guessed there were certain elements that laser tag places shared no matter where they were.

 

The first ones through were Toriel and Frisk.  As soon as the goat monster stepped in, her white fur shone violet under the black light.  She looked down at her own paws in wonder, wiggling them teasingly at her child as they giggled.  Papyrus had a similar reaction, while Undyne and Alphys' fanged smiles stood out against their scales.

 

"weird," sans chuckled. 

 

You looked at him and drew in a quiet breath.  The sight of the unnatural glow illuminating his bones had a different effect on you.  He looked borderline ethereal, the darkness of his eyes seeming deeper than ever.  Your mind hesitated a bit at the word you wanted to use to describe him, but why deny it?  You found him exceedingly attractive.

 

"You look bonkers," you said instead.

 

"your teeth look pretty crazy, too," he chuckled.

 

An attendant soon came to explain the rules to everyone, and then you were all donning the vests and drawing your guns.  A large pair of doors opened to reveal the course:  A winding maze with mirrors, smoke, and more glowing paint, as well as a few towers that could serve as sniping points.  You were washed with childish joy as the countdown began.  Everyone went out into the maze and scattered, going off in pairs, all of your friends embracing the excitement.  Sans went out beside you as you crept out into the winding halls, waiting for the game to start.

 

"where we going, chief?" he chuckled.

 

"The towers," you answered, your voice a mixture of fun and competitive.  "Gives us a view of the whole place.  If we can defend it, we'll get the upper hand."

 

His eyes went wide as he looked at your flushed grin.  You thought you might have seen an added blue glow to his cheekbones, but you were sure it was just a trick of the black light.  "you're really getting into this."

 

"'Cuz I wanna _win_ ," you laughed in response.

 

His smile finally curled out of its usual laziness, making him look a touch wicked.  "then let's win."

 

The buzzer finally sounded, and your guns whirred to life.

 

Everything was so fast paced once the game began.  You both found a tower, but Undyne and Alphys had gotten there first.  The fish monster was enthusiastic but overzealous, charging you head on without bothering to take cover.  She found herself getting shot every time she went up against you.  Surprisingly, her wife was an exceptional shot, repeatedly sniping you with a paired "S-sorry!" if you got too close.

 

After getting tagged, Sans shrugged down at his useless gun and said, "guess the tower's locked up pretty tight.  nice job, alph."

 

"Th-thanks Sans, sorry Naya!"  You had to laugh at the doctor's complete lack of animosity, juxtaposed with her wife's angry wails of defeat.

 

"Let's try the maze then!"

 

You came across a few of the other humans—who had thankfully forgotten their doubts and were now happily tagging the monsters—and were eventually facing off against Frisk and Toriel.  You tried tagging the teen on sight, but they dodged every laser without shooting any of their own.  You were so impressed by their agility that you didn't notice Toriel take you out with a victorious giggle.

 

You shook your head and started moving past them, giving Frisk a high five and admitting, "Ok, that was a pretty good play."

 

Sans grinned at Toriel and asked, "having fun yet, tori?"

 

"Yes, very much!" she laughed, before quickly getting dragged off by Frisk.

 

The rest of the game went by too fast.  The two of you skulked around back to back, taking it just seriously enough to have fun, but the buzzer sounded far too soon.

 

You gathered out in the lobby, all a bit breathless as your friends gushed and made predictions on who would win.  Soon an attendant came out to announce the rankings, starting from the bottom and going up.  Papyrus was in last place.  He offered the explanation that "A WISE WARRIOR NEVER MAKES THE FIRST MOVE!!"  Undyne ranked next lowest, to her dismay.  She landed plenty of shots but was hit more times than anyone else.  Next was Toriel, then ranking directly in the middle was Frisk.  You peeked at their scorecard to see a whole lot of zeroes--nobody managed to land a shot on them, and by the look of things they never even fired their own gun.  You and Sans came in just under Alphys, who claimed the runner up slot.

 

"Holy crap, babe!"  Undyne scooped her wife up in a proud hug, exclaiming, "You were freaking AWESOME!"

 

"O-o-oh gosh, w-wow, I didn't even th-think--"  Her words cut off with a squeak when Undyne gave her a tight squeeze.

 

You all had one more game, but before you went back in, Frisk marched to the front of the group and signed something with a frown.

 

"No teams?" Toriel repeated.  "Why ever not, my child?"

 

With a pout, they forcibly pried Undyne and Alphys apart, then approached you and Sans to do the same.  They wagged a disapproving finger at you before trotting back into the loading deck.

 

"guess that's that," Sans chuckled, giving you a wink.

 

You went through the rules again, chose your guns, and separated in the maze.  Right away you felt a bit of the fun fade as Sans offered a lazy salute and strolled off down a corridor.  That rush of silly intensity didn't hit you as hard when the buzzer rang.  It just wasn't the same without someone there to laugh with you.

 

For the first couple minutes, you wandered around and did your best to get into the competition on your own, but despite Frisk's insistence, you soon found yourself specifically looking for Sans.  Your search for him even overshadowed your efforts in actually tagging.  The longer you looked, the deeper you frowned, and the harder you tried to convince yourself to just go off and actually try to win.

 

"pew pew."  You spun at the deadpan voice and gasped indignantly when your gun made the "you got shot" noise.

 

Leaning against a corner and grinning casually out at you was Sans.  "gotcha."

 

"That was a cheap shot," you retorted.  You tried to hide just how happy you were to have found him.

 

He shrugged.  "i'm not the one who said no teams.  blame the kid."

 

You felt a competitive smile start to stretch over your face.  You crept toward a wall, knowing that your gun was almost back online, and said, "Fine.  Then don't expect me to go easy on you."

 

He quirked one brow, his posture a bit more attentive.  "oh yeah?"

 

Just then, you heard the beep that let you know your gun was ready.  You ducked for cover and shot at him with a sudden "Ha!"  You had to blink in surprise when, once again, you were shot before you could even process what had happened.

 

Sans was holding up his gun.  He winked and repeated, "no teams."

 

Your mouth hung open for a moment before you knotted your brow, grinned, and, in a silly, over-the-top display of toughness, gave your neck a loud crack.  "No teams."

 

He tensed suddenly, the lights in his eyes flickering for just a moment as he stared at you with an expression you'd never seen before.  You felt a hard lurch in your chest as your entire body froze under that look, but then your gun was back online and he was grinning back at you and growling, "ok then."

 

Within that isolated area of twisting walls and windows, you chased and dodged and shot at each other.  You didn't even notice or care that you weren't landing a single hit--you were too giddy from the attention, the teasing, and the playful competition.  You were doing most of the moving, while he'd somehow find a way to casually sneak up on you no matter where you went.  Every shot would disable you, but every time, you'd just laugh.  Nobody interrupted your cat-and-mouse game, and soon you forgot there was anyone else there.

 

It took a few minutes for you to realize what you were doing.  The feigned frustration, the giggling, the way you weren't focused on winning so much as just being with him.  You were flirting.  With every missed shot it became clearer.  The more fun you had, the more you let your reservations slip.

 

At one point after he'd tagged you, you groaned and slumped back into a tight corner, rolling your head back and whining, "Again?"

 

You heard his voice reply from somewhere, "heh.  wanna take a break?"

 

"Psh, no, I wanna take you _out_ ," you quipped back with a snort.

 

Suddenly, he stepped out from around your corner and stood in front of you, chuckling, "go ahead."

 

The air caught in your throat.  The space was tight enough and he was close enough that he filled your vision.  His front was shadowed, but his edges were glowing in the black light while his pupils shone out from impossibly dark sockets.  You were slouched just enough that he was a hair above your eye level.  You swallowed and felt you heart begin to pound, forgetting the game entirely.

 

Neither of you noticed when your gun came back to life.  Your breath quickened as he took a small step closer, not saying anything, not breaking the eye contact that held you fast.  Unconsciously, you moved deeper into your corner.  Your bodies were nearly touching.  Your back pressed firmly into the wall, and then...

 

An unwelcome wave of panic surged through you.  You tried to resist as your mind reacted to the pressure against your back; you tried to remind yourself that you were safe, you were with Sans, but he wasn't who your mind was seeing.  For just an instant, you were trapped.  You were being held there.  Someone was holding you down.

 

You gasped.  The flash of anxiety had only lasted for a second, but Sans noticed.  He immediately stepped back as that intent expression fell into concern.  His hand lifted a bit, as if he was uncertain whether or not he should reach out to you.

 

"S-sorry, sorry!" you whispered before he could say anything.

 

"is something wrong?"  His voice was soft and hesitant.

 

"No no!  N-no, no yeah I'm totally fine, sorry."  You'd pushed yourself out of that corner as quickly as you could.  You were standing opposite him, unable to meet his eyes and quivering with embarrassment.  "Honestly, that wasn't...that was really nothing, sorry, I..."

 

"naya."  There was the smallest, briefest twinge of hurt in his voice, and it tore you to pieces.  "did i--"

 

The buzzer cut off his question.  Your eyes darted toward the exit, then back to Sans.  He was still watching you.  He wasn't smiling at all.

 

"I'm ok.  Really."  You attempted a grin, but by the look on his face it wasn't very convincing.  "That was a good game.  Thank you."  And with that, you started toward the lobby, the entirety of your body tense as you tried to appear normal.

 

If your friends noticed the change between you and Sans, they didn't say anything.  Everyone chatted and laughed about the games, with Undyne, Papyrus and Frisk already setting the date for a rematch.  You made a pretty good show of joining in and thanking everyone for letting you tag along, but every time you looked at Sans, you felt your chest ache.  Just under his typical lazy exterior, you could see the worry and confusion; you could still hear the unhappiness in his quiet words.

 

You didn't get a moment alone with him before you were dropped off.  Even if you had, you were sure you wouldn't be able to say anything.  You wouldn't be able to explain yourself.  You knew he would go home thinking he'd done something wrong, and you knew it was your fault.  You'd been so happy, you'd felt so close to him, and then like always, even after all this time, _they_ had taken it away from you.  You’d felt a shadow of those fears last night with Cody, but today you’d received a physical reminder.  You’d felt it on your back.  It was enormously, painfully unfair that the person you’d had to feel it with was Sans.

 

For the first time in years, you found yourself wishing you could talk to someone about this.  About everything.  You hated keeping these old secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title's "whoops" because I really super didn't mean to leave it on a sad note, did not going into the chapter thinking it'd be that way. I was all "aw yeah gonna have a nice fluff chapter after Naya's bad day, gonna be great," and then whoopsie doopsie


	20. 420 blaze it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's just about weed so,

The first couple weeks of October were difficult.  You took up extra shifts at work and rarely had time to see your friends.  You told yourself you weren't avoiding him, you would talk to him as soon as you could, you wouldn't let him go on thinking he'd done anything wrong.  But Sans' haunted house had entered into it busy season, and he was working more as well.  You never saw him during your restaurant breaks.  He even cut his performances at the club, yet he would still always find time to walk you home late at night.

 

When he escorted you home a week after the laser tag incident, you'd made it so awkward.  It was the first time you'd seen or spoken since, and all that day you'd been psyching yourself up to try and explain yourself, but once you were face to face the words just wouldn't come.  He had asked once, and you still cringed at your reply.  “Claustrophobia.”  A lie, but a pretty believable one.  You were sure he was expecting you to say something honest, and you could feel the shift of attitude when you didn't.  To any outsider, he would be acting as casual and friendly as always, but you could feel the difference.  You could sense the distance he reestablished, you noticed the way he didn't automatically reach for your hand, and you had to keep forcing yourself to laugh at all the extra puns.  You didn't know if he was angry or hurt or just giving you your space, and it was wearing you down.  You'd arrive home and beat yourself up over your horrible, long-standing inability to just talk to people.  You were miserable.  You'd been so, so happy to have some semblance of closeness with Sans, but now it felt like for every step you'd taken forward, you'd taken two steps back.

 

The only moments of escape you found were with Toriel and Frisk.  They still joined you every day for lunch at the elementary school to teach you sign language, to give you homemade goodies, and just to talk with you.  You were appreciative of the company, but as the days passed and you continued to feel weighted by the wall you were unintentionally building between you and Sans, you noticed a pattern.  Any time you'd let any of the emotional exhaustion show in front of Toriel, she'd show up the next day with a fully packed, delicious lunch for you.  She wouldn't say anything or treat you differently, but as you ate the magic-infused food and felt an immediate improvement on your mood, you could swear you tasted the worry in her cooking.

 

Finally, after working an extra Friday shift at the elementary school, Toriel said something.

 

"Are you sure you are feeling well, Anaya?" she asked gently.

 

"Yeah!  Yeah, just a little tired.  Long work week, y'know?" you answered, faking a smile.

 

"You _have_ been working quite a bit lately..."

 

Frisk nodded in agreement from beside their mother.  You were all sitting around her desk, waiting for her to finish tidying up.  You'd taken an afternoon shift, so you still had about an hour of work to go, but just thinking of her and Frisk heading off for another peaceful evening at home made you ache with loneliness.  Huh.  Since when did being alone make you lonely?

 

Toriel looked pensive as she straightened a stack of tests.  "It is not healthy to spread yourself so thin, my dear."

 

"Ah, I mean, yeah...I guess I'm just...used to it?"  Your mask was cracking a bit under her worried gaze.  When even Frisk took your hand sympathetically, you slumped even more, though you still maintained that trying-to-look-ok smile.

 

Finally, Toriel was picking up her bag and coat, but before she even glanced at the door she turned to you.  "I know how busy you are, Anaya, but Frisk and I would love to have you for dinner.  Are you working tonight?"

 

Frisk gripped your hand happily and beamed at the suggestion, while Toriel continued watching you with a patient smile.  The mask slipped even more as the possibility of good food and good friends enticed you.  You tried not to look too eager as you replied, "Are you sure?  I don't want to...you don't always have to, y'know, feed me--"

 

Toriel silenced you with a paw on your shoulder.  "We would be more than grateful for the company."

 

There was sincerity in her voice that made your throat close up a bit.  Swallowing, you nodded, and then waved goodbye as Frisk skipped excitedly after their mother.

 

* * *

 

 

When you arrived at their apartment building that evening, you noticed Papyrus' red convertible missing from the parking lot.  You wondered if the skeleton brothers were home.  You wondered if you were at risk of running into Sans, and then you scolded yourself, because you weren't avoiding him.  You were just busy.  You both were.

 

You knocked on their door and heard Toriel call, "It is open!"

 

In the living room, Toriel and Frisk were sitting on the ground in their pajamas, a guitar nestled in the teen's lap.  You had to immediately return their warm smiles, even if you suddenly felt overdressed in just jeans and a t-shirt.  The apartment was at once more cluttered and cozier since the last time you'd been there.  They'd been unpacking, and the walls were now nearly covered with various pictures of them and all their friends, like family portraits.  You even noticed a couple containing the very "Asgore Dreemurr" you'd researched.  The couch and chair were each covered with pillows and blankets; a packed bookshelf now sat against one wall; and in one corner, there was a space heater, atop which a tablet was playing one of those crackling fire videos.  There was something incredibly sweet about that makeshift fireplace.

 

"Come in, come in!" Toriel was beaming, gesturing you forward.  "Dinner is almost ready!"

 

Any shyness was forgotten as you sat down on the couch next to them, the comfort of your surroundings and of your friends enveloping you.  How were they always able to make you feel so welcome?

 

"Frisk was just finishing up their music lesson," the monster explained proudly, sitting comfortably on her knees.  This was the first time you'd ever seen her so casual.  Her fleece pajamas were lilac and covered in little pink snails, of all things.  "I do not play myself, of course, but there are many people on the human YouTubes that have proven quite helpful!"

 

The teen nodded, and then stuck their tongue out in concentration as they demonstrated a few chords.

 

You clapped and grinned down at them.  "That's already sounding awesome, Frisk, some of those chords are super tricky," you complimented.  "You learning any songs yet?"

 

They shook their head and signed something that you were pretty sure meant "difficult."

 

"I could show you a couple songs that are good for beginners, if you want."

 

Frisk grinned appreciatively, while Toriel said, "That would be very helpful!  Do you play at all, Anaya?"

 

You blinked at the question.  Yes, you could play the guitar.  Even if it had been a while since you'd been committed to it, you hadn't forgotten.  You'd started lessons when you were very young, and through your years of school it became something of a mark of pride.  You had very few talents--you couldn't draw, you couldn't write, you couldn't dance or cook or build things.  You weren't athletic, nor were you academic.  But you could play, and you could even sing.  You honestly couldn't do much else.

 

"A little," you dismissed.  "Just when I was younger."

 

Toriel clasped her paws together in delight.  "That is wonderful!  I had no idea you were a musician!"

 

You blushed.  "Musician" seemed a little generous.

 

"Would you show Frisk a bit of what you know while I finish up dinner?"

 

Before you could protest, Frisk clutched your arm and gazed up at you with what you swore were stars in their eyes.  How could you say no?

 

Toriel bustled into the kitchen and the teen practically shoved the guitar into your hands, crossing their legs and watching you attentively.

 

"Um...uh, ok, it's just been a while," you mumbled.  Even as you said it, the instrument instantly felt comfortable in your lap.  Your hands fell exactly where they needed to as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  "Let's see, uh...there's a bunch of songs that I'm pretty sure everyone learns at first, since they're easy.  Um...oh!  Oh ok, you might be a little young for this one, but..."

 

Your fingers fumbled a bit at first, feeling sluggish from the lack of practice, but soon you were playing a simple version of "Leaving on a Jet Plane" you'd learned as one of your first songs.  You were so concentrated that you almost forgot Frisk was there.  It took a few bars for it to all come back, and once it did, you grinned down at the teen.  They were just staring at you in wonder and squinting at your hands studiously.  The more you got into it, the more you unconsciously started singing along with the chords.  It was just one of those songs where both the words and the music came so easily.

 

Soon, Frisk was reaching for their guitar and doing their best to follow your example.  You slowed them down and guided them through it, singing wherever it helped.  You didn't notice when Toriel appeared in the kitchen doorframe, smiling tenderly at the two of you.  It wasn't until you heard the sound of a camera going off that you finally looked up at her.

 

"Oh goodness, I am sorry, please do not let me interrupt," she laughed quietly, holding her phone in one paw and a tray balancing three bowls in the other.  "It is a beautiful song."

 

You ducked in embarrassment.  "Yeah, it's one of my favorites."

 

Toriel held the tray down for you, and you took a bowl of what looked like thick, hearty chili.  The smell was incredible.  You took a deep whiff and smiled appreciatively at the monster, saying, "Thanks so much, Toriel.  Seriously, you're way too nice, inviting me over like this..."

 

"Nonsense!"  She placed Frisk's bowl in front of them while they were still concentrated on their guitar, and then sat back down on the floor with a bowl for her.  "Nothing brings me more pleasure than cooking for friends."  She gave you a pointed look at the word "friends," and you felt your face grow hot as you started eating.

 

Suddenly, Frisk discarded their guitar and signed something to their mother, a hopeful expression in their eyes.

 

Toriel tensed and blinked down at her child.  "Ah.  You want...I see.  Well, my child..."  She glanced at you uncertainly.  You returned it with a questioning look.  Eventually, she sighed and said, "Very well.  Perhaps he would actually want to eat something today.  But he must behave himself, understand?"  The last part was called after Frisk while they were already sprinting to their room.

 

Toriel turned back to you apologetically.

 

You winced and mouthed, "Flowey?"

 

She nodded while giving a small, exasperated shrug.  You almost smiled at the exchange.  At first you'd been in cahoots with Frisk, thinking that Toriel wasn't aware of their and Flowey's antics, but now the tables had turned.  There was something a bit funny about sharing this kind of secret with another adult.  You both had to act like you'd never met the flower before.

 

When Frisk returned carrying Flowey's pot, Toriel made of a show of introducing the two of you.  "Anaya, this is Flowey.  He is Frisk's very close friend.  I do not believe you have yet been acquainted?"

 

"Nope!"

 

Flowey just pouted and folded his leaves, turning away from you until Frisk jostled him lightly.  "Ugh.  Hi," he grumbled.

 

The teen looked ecstatic at how well everything was going.  When they passed Toriel, they threw you a big, secret wink, which you returned with a subtle thumbs up.  Then once they were focusing on getting Flowey settled in beside them, you shared a trying-not-to-laugh glance with Toriel.  Yes, this was going very well.

 

To your surprise, dinner with Flowey went smoothly.  He didn't seem very talkative that night.  Maybe it had something to do with being around both Frisk and Toriel--the former kept him calm, while the latter would surely keep him in check if need be.  He mostly just sulked next to Frisk and accepted the occasional bite of chili, though he didn't seem to enjoy it.

 

Toriel talked cheerfully about her life without asking too many questions.  It turned out to be just what you needed.  Hearing about her exchanges with the students and the new human friends she'd started to make within the faculty was fun, and distracted you from your life's current troubles.  You laughed whenever she'd slip in her silly puns, but you couldn't pretend the jokes didn't bring to mind another monster you were trying very hard not to think about.

 

When you'd all finished eating and were just sitting comfortably on the rug, Frisk once again picked up their guitar.  You went bright red when they instantly held it out to you.

 

"O-oh man, uh," you stuttered.  They cut you off by shoving it closer, practically forcing it into your hands.

 

"What a wonderful idea, my child!" Toriel chirped.  She beamed at you expectantly.  "We would love to hear another song, Anaya."

 

"Tch."  At some point, Flowey had taken Frisk's phone from their pocket to play games on it.  You didn't miss his eye-roll as you started to position the guitar in your lap.

 

"Um...y-yeah, sure."  This was reminding you of when you were in high school, hanging out with your friends, talking about nothing, and casually noodling with anyone who would listen.  Your embarrassment was only a flicker, quickly snuffed by the earnest way Toriel and Frisk were watching you.  "Do you guys, uh...I don't know, have a request, or...?  Y'know what I'll just...go for it.  Uh.  Yeah, ok."

 

You started playing the first thing that came to mind: "Blackbird."  Toriel closed her eyes and smiled quietly to herself.  Flowey acted aloof, but like a cat, the petals closest to you perked up as if he was listening.  After a few measures, Frisk tilted their head at you and gave a sign you didn't recognize.

 

"Huh?" you asked, stopping for a moment.

 

"They are wondering if you would sing," Toriel translated.

 

"Oh."  You blushed.  "I mean, sure.  I can."

 

So you did.  Your voice cracked with uncertainty at first, but soon you were singing with the same ease and comfort you'd felt in your younger days.  Frisk listened intently at first, until they were reaching eagerly for the guitar before you could even finish.  You passed it over with a laugh and once again walked them slowly through the chords.  Toriel had regained that distant, peaceful look on her face as she watched her child play, while Flowey was no longer trying to hide the fact that he was intrigued by the music.

 

Time flew by, and it wasn't until Toriel was guiding her sleepy child back to their bedroom that you noticed how long you'd been there.  You stared at the clock for a moment, then your eyes wandered toward the pictures of varying sizes that filled the walls.  Absently, you stood and approached some of them while waiting for Toriel to return. 

 

Most were of Frisk.  There they were buried in a pile of fall leaves; feeding a goat from one hand while pointing jokingly at the camera with the other; picking up shells on a beach.  But there were others; Undyne and Alphys, the skeleton brothers, and people and monsters you didn't recognize.  You smiled up at a large picture from the formers' wedding.  Undyne was wearing a deep red mermaid-fit, while Alphys looked like a princess in white.  They were dancing in a ring of smiling people, absolutely absorbed in each other.  You moved on to a photo of Sans and Frisk dozing on a couch while Toriel covered them in a blanket.  Maybe you should have felt a twinge of jealousy or discomfort—there was clearly something private in the way Toriel was smiling at him—but you could only feel warmth at the sweet moment captured on film. 

 

Right beside that one was a shot of Asgore, the king of monsters.  You concentrated a bit more on this picture:  He was in a garden, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and watering a patch of daisies, and beside him was Frisk with their own watering can.  Seeing him towering over and smiling down at them made you realize just how massive he was.

 

"We have a lovely garden back home."

 

You turned at Toriel's voice.  She was smiling and approaching you with a cup of tea, staring softly at the picture.

 

"This is where you guys live?" you asked, accepting the drink.

 

"Mm.  Back in Ebott."  She started picking up stray dishes and straightening up the living room.  "We own a house there, Frisk and I.  A small cottage, nothing impressive, but it is outside of the city.  Far enough to see the stars at night."

 

You frowned as you studied the way Asgore was beaming at Frisk.  The articles you'd skimmed and the warnings Frisk had given you against bringing him up had left you with expectations that conflicted with the kind, paternal expression he wore in the picture.

 

As if she read your mind, Toriel said, "Asgore always did have quite the knack for gardening."

 

You looked at her in surprise.  Her voice didn't carry any bitterness, and she still had that distant smile.  "Frisk takes after him quite a bit, you know.  Even with what little time they spend together.  They love being outside, taking care of the plants, toiling under the sun..."

 

"Is he, um..."  Your voice faltered a bit.  You weren't supposed to be asking about any of this, but the way Toriel tilted her head questioningly spurned you on.  "Is he Frisk's dad?"

 

She seemed to hesitate a bit before answering, "They certainly seem to view him that way, yes.  And while I may not enjoy sharing the parental role with him, I cannot discredit his abilities as a father."  She finally let slip a touch of coldness as she stirred her tea a little too vigorously, but her words didn't carry much sting.

 

A combination of curiosity and your recent, desperate hope to have someone to relate to kept you talking.  "That must be hard," you murmured, sitting down on the couch while she took her seat in the chair.  "Having to be around him so much."

 

She gave you a little smile.  "So you do know who he is."

 

You immediately blushed and looked away, but her gentle laugh reassured you.

 

"It is alright, my dear, it is more or less public knowledge.  Remaining private becomes an impossibility when your ex-husband is a king.  But Asgore and I have had discussions about our...differences.  We are at the very least civil with one another."

 

"How did..."  Your words were small and uncertain.  "Why did it happen?  If that's not...rude to ask, or anything."

 

The kindness in Toriel's eyes was joined by an old sadness as she replied, "No, it is not.  It is a story many of my people know, though it is hard to share.  Forgive me if I refrain from telling it in detail."

 

"N-no, no, that's ok," you assured hastily.  "I, um...I get that.  I'm the same way, y'know?"

 

She smiled appreciatively before continuing, "Asgore and I had a disagreement many, many years ago, one that held the lives of our subjects in the balance.  We had suffered a terrible loss, and…”  She took a deep breath.  “We reacted differently, grieved differently, and I could not stand by and condone his methods of despair.  He had the people on his side, however.  I was alone in my misgivings.  It was enough to cause me to run away and resort to solitude.  That was a...difficult chapter of my life.  I became mistrustful, and lonely, and…well.  As I said.  It is not an easy thing to recount.”

 

Unconsciously, you clutched your chest and widened your eyes as she spoke.  She was calm, but her words carried something dark and sorrowful that cut deeper than you were expecting.

 

“It was not until Frisk arrived in the underground that I regained the resolve to confront him, and once I did, I was able to let my friends and family back into my life."  She turned her eyes lovingly to the pictures on her wall.  "In short, Frisk saved me, as they did everyone else."

 

Your heart pounded as you stared at Toriel.  That story had been a little too familiar, all except for the happy ending.  This plus the talk of exes and home and the warm, strange comfort you'd felt all evening were making a mess of your emotions.  You feared that if you didn't get at least something off your chest, you would slingshot right back into lonely misery.

 

"Wow," you muttered, frowning into your teacup.  "It's amazing that you've...moved past it."

 

"It took time."

 

You looked up.  Toriel was meeting your eyes seriously.  You pressed, "Yeah?"

 

"There is nothing worse than being betrayed by someone you once loved.  It takes time and care to heal from such wounds."

 

“How much time?”

 

She suddenly offered you a box of tissues--you hadn't even noticed the few traitorous tears leaking from your eyes.  You looked between her and the box for a moment before you took it.  "Sorry," you whispered with a shaky laugh.

 

"I have been worried for you, my friend."  She leaned forward to put a paw on your knee.  "I just want you to know that."

 

"I do know that."  She'd seen it all along, hadn't she?  The old hurts coming to the surface once again, and the way they'd been wearing you down.  It was just like she said—slipping anything past her was near impossible.

 

She was quiet as you took a few breaths, her paw a comforting pressure against you.  Finally, you sighed and began, "I just never talk to anyone about it.  It's...weird bringing it up."

 

"I understand."

 

"I was really young and she was older, and pretty, she was a professor.  She was so...interesting to me.  Rachel."  It was the first time you'd said her name out loud in so, so long, and your voice shook from the relief.  "But I should've known, I just let myself get swept up and then...I didn't have time to...there was no way I could..."

 

"I was young too, Naya."

 

"I was so stupid."

 

"We are changed in love, and we are not faulted for it.  It is not your fault."

 

Her words were so hard and sure that you wondered if she'd been saying them for a long time.  You sniffed and wiped your eyes, and without realizing it, you put a hand over her paw.  "I'm sorry.  I really haven't told anyone about her since...since it ended."

 

"You do not have to say any more."

 

And you wouldn't say more.  You couldn't.  Not all at once.  "No, I...this feels good.  I feel better, really."  It was true, despite the tears that kept forming in your vision.  Even if you weren't saying everything, you were saying something, and that was enough.  "And I'm usually fine.  Honestly, just...these past couple weeks have been rough.  Lots of memories coming up out of nowhere, and I...gah..."  You ran one hand through your hair and sighed.  "I feel like I'm pushing people away?  I don't mean to, but...yeah."

 

"You are like me," Toriel stated, a bit of laughter in her voice.

 

"You're right," you snorted back weakly.  "You said you ran away and I was like 'wow, you too?'"

 

Toriel suddenly reached around with her huge, strong arms and pulled you toward her.  You didn't resist, putting one hand behind her back to return the hug while squeezing your eyes shut.

 

"It just sucks sometimes," you whispered.  You felt like you were doing little more than whine at this point.

 

"Yes, it does indeed suck."  She pulled away and held your shoulders, giving you a warm smile.  "But _you_ do not suck.  You have already proven yourself as a wonderful friend.  I know that, Frisk knows that, and he knows it, too."

 

You frowned and sniffed, "'He?'"

 

Her smile quirked a bit at one end.  "You are surrounded by people who care about you, Naya.  Do not forget that."

 

You shared a final hug before you rose and started moving toward the door, apologizing for staying so late.  You felt lighter than you had in weeks. 

 

"Please do not hesitate to visit, Naya," Toriel said as you were putting on your jacket.  "I am here if you need to talk, and I am sure Frisk would love another guitar lesson!"

 

"Thanks so much, Tori."  A touch of your shyness returned as you blushed.  "Y'know, for everything."

 

You walked out into the apartment building's breezeway and took a breath.  You'd said something.  You'd let yourself open up to someone, even if you hadn't said much, and you were fine.  Things weren't perfect—the scar on your forehead itched insistently, reminding you that while the lid on your past had loosened, it was far from being opened—but this was a start.  You’d said her name and the world hadn’t turned against you.  Toriel had listened.  You survived.

 

"GOOD EVENING, NAYA!!"

 

You yelped and whipped around at the sudden booming voice.  At the door beside you stood Papyrus and Sans, the former waving to you energetically while the latter was putting his key in the lock.

 

Your eyes met his for a moment.  You both had the same frozen, unsure expressions on your faces, your jaws working on words that just wouldn't form right.

 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT HER MAJESTY'S HOUSE?" Papyrus asked.

 

"I w-was, uh."  You blinked, forcing yourself to look from Sans to the taller skeleton.  "I was having dinner with them.  A-and, um, what about you guys?"

 

“I HAD CLASS TONIGHT!!  IT WAS VERY EDUCATIONAL, DID YOU KNOW THERE ARE MACHINES THAT CAN MAKE HOMEMADE SPAGHETTI _FOR_ YOU??”  He seemed to suddenly remember Sans was there, putting a hand on his head and adding, “AND SANS WAS AT WORK SPOOKING TEENAGERS.”

 

“Oh.  Cool.  Um…well, you guys are probably tired, so maybe I’ll see you—”

 

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY SOME OF MY MACHINEMADE-BUT-STILL-HOMEMADE SPAGHETTI?”

 

You stared up at Papyrus in surprise—he was beaming expectantly.  Your eyes flicked to Sans, who still hadn’t managed to unlock the door, and you stammered, “W-well I, uh, I don’t want to keep you this late and—”

 

“bro, she already ate, she probably doesn’t wanna—”

 

“THERE IS ALWAYS ROOM FOR SPAGHETTI AND FRIENDSHIP!!”  Papyrus suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the apartment.  You gave Sans a slightly panicked look as he turned the key and let you both in, staring after you with a mix of apology and awkwardness.

 

It seemed your night still wasn’t over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha, yes, FINALLY. She speaks. A little. Bare minimum speaking, but it's a start. Give her time. She is just a sad little meerkat, she'll come around.
> 
> also this is my longest chap ever eyoooo


	21. Anyone Can Cook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support you wily coyotes!! I think the comments on the last chap were probably my favorite, between the Rachels coming out of the woodwork and all the speculation I was just super tickled.
> 
> Edit: Boom, Catsup art - http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/143568178069/dis-catsup-the-cuddle-slut

You nearly lost your balance when Papyrus swung his arm and practically tossed you into the middle of the living room.

 

"HOME SWEET HOME!" Papyrus sang.  He took off his coat and put it neatly on a hook, while beside him Sans kicked his shoes off carelessly.  The taller skeleton immediately snapped, "SANS, COULD YOU AT LEAST _TRY_ TO SUPPRESS YOUR LAZINESS WHEN WE HAVE COMPANY??"

 

"sure, bro.  i can _shoe-press_ it."  Sans tried to flash you an amused smile, but it fell a little flat.

 

"YOU ARE IMPOSSIBLE!"  Papyrus' voice sounded oddly deliberate.  You noticed him give you a brief look before shouting, "HONESTLY, MUST I DO EVERYTHING IN THIS HOUSE?  EXCUSE US WHILE I ASSIST MY BROTHER IN PUTTING HIS SHOES AWAY, NAYA!"  He picked up Sans' sneakers and started herding the shorter skeleton down the hall.

 

“h-heh, paps, i can do it on my—”

 

“WE SHALL RETURN SHORTLY!  PLEASE MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME!!”

 

You hadn’t even had a moment to try some awkward small talk before they were gone.  After you heard a door slam somewhere down the hall, you took a quick moment to look around.  The apartment had the same layout as Toriel's, but the skeleton brothers did much less for decoration.  There was a couch and a TV in the living room, a small four-person dining table, and, to your surprise, a guitar propped in one corner.  You wondered if that had anything to do with Frisk.

 

The feeling of something soft and unexpected against your leg made you yelp.  You looked down, and curling around your feet and letting out a squeaky meow was a small, portly orange cat.  It blinked sweetly up at you and meowed again.

 

"Didn't know they had a cat," you murmured, recovering from your surprise.  You leaned down to give it a scratch under its chin, and as it purred and rubbed its cheek eagerly against you, you felt your guard drop a notch.  “What’s your name, kiddo?”

 

"that's catsup."

 

Sans strode back into the living room, his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained fondly on the cat.  Papyrus was close behind.  For a moment, you thought you read a troubled expression on the tall skeleton’s face, but he perked up too fast for you to be sure.  “AH!  YOU HAVE MET OUR TINY, FURRY CHARGE!”

 

You actually managed a real smile and a quirked brow as you glanced up at Sans.  "'Catsup?'  Seriously?"

 

His posture relaxed a bit and he snorted, "of _course_ catsup.”

 

It was a brief moment of friendliness, ending as soon as you both looked away.  Sans coughed uneasily and you scuffed your toes against the carpet.  Papyrus was glancing between the two of you with an unreadable expression, which was weird coming from him.  Suddenly, his eyes brightened with some kind of realization, and then he scooped Catsup up and brandished her at Sans.  She didn't look at all unhappy with this new development, squinting at the short skeleton and purring just as loudly as before.  "OH NO!  SANS, LOOK AT THIS POOR CREATURE!"

 

Sans just chuckled, "'sup catsup?"

 

"SHE'S BEEN ALL ALONE ALL NIGHT!  NO FOOD, NO COMPANY, JUST LOOK AT HER!  SHE'S WASTING AWAY!!"

 

She chirped and started kneading her paws in the air.

 

Papyrus shoved her into Sans' arms—where she quickly curled up with what you swore was a smile—and pointed to the kitchen, demanding, "GO AND GET HER SOME DINNER BEFORE SHE TURNS TO DUST, THE PITIFUL THING!"

 

"dunno, paps.  think she could stand to lose a few _kit-ograms_ ," he snickered, poking her round belly.

 

"OFF WITH YOU!" Papyrus huffed. 

 

Sans obeyed, and as he walked away, Catsup wiggled out of his arms to wrap herself around his neck while rubbing her cheek against his.  You couldn't stop yourself from letting out a little sigh.  It was stupidly cute.

 

"Ok he's gone."  Papyrus suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you toward him, bending down to your eye level.  "Naya, you have to help me!"

 

You blinked in surprise to hear Papyrus' voice dropped to a whisper—you didn't know he could even speak at such decibels.  Somehow it still carried the same presence his normal volume did.  "U-uh, something up?" you stammered, copying his volume.

 

"It's about Sans."  Papyrus' eyes flickered to the kitchen, his expression plainly concerned.  "He's been doing nothing but nap and mope around for days!  Well, moreso than usual, anyway.  I have tried everything, even feeding him his favorite horrid, greasy fast food for dinner instead of my own far superior cuisine.  He's miserable!"

 

Your eyes were slowly widening.  _What?_

 

"I'm worried for him.  He's beginning to act like he did when..."  Papyrus stopped and shook his head.  His face brightened when he continued, "He's always in a good mood after spending time with you.  I thought maybe you could knock some sense into him?  With friendship?"

 

"H-he's...he's really that unhappy?" you muttered.  You were having trouble accepting all this.  Was this your fault?  Had you affected him so severely that even his brother was noticing?  Had you really hurt him this much?

 

Just then, Sans appeared from the kitchen.  Papyrus snapped away from you and regained his usual chipper demeanor, shouting, "HONESTLY, SANS, IF I DIDN'T REMIND YOU TO TAKE CARE OF THAT ANIMAL, SHE'D NEVER SURVIVE!"

 

"guess she owes you one," he replied with a shrug.  Noticeably, his eyes flickered to you and then quickly away, one hand scratching the back of his skull.

 

There was just one second of awkward silence between the three of you, when Papyrus suddenly clapped his hands to the side of his face with a loud clack.  "WHOOPSIE DOOPSIE," he exclaimed dramatically, "IT SEEMS I'VE LEFT MY MACHINEMADE-HOMEMADE SPAGHETTI IN THE CAR!  WHAT A SILLY YET STILL VERY GREAT SKELETON AM I!"

 

"uh, didn't you bring the spaghetti with you in your backpa—"

 

"I SHALL RETURN SHORTLY!"  He marched toward the door, and as he passed Sans he threw you a subtle wink, at the same time hissing a not-so-subtle, "Wink!" before exiting with a flourish and slamming the door behind him.

 

With that, he was gone.  The two of you were alone.

 

You looked down at the floor and felt your face heat up.  You still hadn't taken off your shoes or jacket.  You could feel the uncertainty like a thick fog, and you knew you wouldn't get out of saying something this time.

 

“S-so how you been?”

 

“oh you know.  just keepin’ my nose to the old grindstone.”  He tapped his nostril cavity and winked.  “or lack thereof.”

 

You forced a giggle, but something about his delivery felt detached.  Not at all like the carefree humor you’d grown accustomed to.  “Aha, yeah.  Same.”  You couldn’t keep looking at him.  Your eyes went from the door to your shoes to the guitar in the corner.  _Ask about that_ , you told yourself. _Ask about anything.  Just say **something**._   “I-I’ve, um, been wanting to hang out.  Just been so busy, y’know?” you tried.  It was so much harder to summon the words with him than with Toriel.  All you had to do was recall the flash of hurt in his eyes, and your throat closed right up.

 

“heh.  yeah.”  He shrugged and met your eyes.  "listen bud, you don't have to stay if you're tired.  i know how busy you are, and paps would understand if you, uh...don't wanna stick around."  He was looking at you with a fixed smile.  No added warmth, nothing tense about it.  He was just blank.  Guarded.

 

You couldn't stand it.

 

"Look, Sans, I wasn't..."  The words tumbled insistently from your mouth, as if they were sick of waiting on your courage.  You ducked your head behind your hair.  You were so fresh from crying that you were already feeling a lump form in your throat, but you refused to fall apart again.  "That wasn't you.  The other day."

 

Even though you kept your head down, you could sense him stiffen.

 

"I can't, um..."  You cleared your throat.  "Y'know...talk about it?  Not right now.  If that's ok."  You raised your head, but you still couldn't meet his eyes, instead glancing down at the kitchen doorway where Catsup was licking her whiskers.  "But it wasn't you.  A-and...I'm sorry I didn't say that right away.  I wanted to, but I'm a terrible...h-ha.  Um…I suck.  I really suck, so--"

 

"woah, hey."  He took a couple steps forward, and you finally forced yourself to look at him.  He was studying your face with concern.  His hands were out of his pockets, hanging tentatively in front of him as if he didn't know what to do with them.  You realized, to your annoyance, that your vision was a bit blurry with tears.

 

"Gah, nope.  Nope nope, sorry, hold on," you grumbled, letting out a dry laugh as you wiped your eyes.  "Fuck, sorry sorry."

 

"naya."  You felt his hand on your arm.  Any scrap of awkwardness or distance was gone from his voice.  There was just understanding.  "it's ok, we don't have to talk about it.  i get it.  you're ok."

 

"I promise I'll t-talk eventually, I owe you that, but--"

 

"you don't owe me anything.  please don't worry about it, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to..."  He squeezed your arm and averted his eyes.

 

You laughed hoarsely at his apology.  “ _You’re_ sorry?”

 

Sans smiled weakly.  “you’re upset.  and i’ve been…god, a total jerk.  shoulda been there for you, even if i didn’t know why you…”  His words tapered out to a quiet growl.  He sighed, subtly reaching with his free hand to take yours.  His phalanges wove loosely around your fingers as he repeated, “shoulda been there for you.”

 

"Shit, dude, stop...don't be so nice to me," you mumbled pathetically, feeling too drained to maintain that wall you'd been building the past couple weeks.  You unconsciously moved a bit closer.  "Seriously.  I'll cry and be gross and neither of us wants that."

 

"no way.  you're never gross." 

 

His voice was low and kind and definitely not helping your efforts to fight down the tears.  With a little whimper, you let your head fall forward until it was resting on his shoulder.  Relief washed through you at the feeling of his furry hood tickling your nose.  You'd missed him so much.

 

He didn't resist, wrapping his arms around you and lightly rubbing your back.  You could feel his hands brush against the ends of your hair and send pleasant shivers over your scalp.  "'M sorry," you sighed.

 

"hey, cut that out.  you got nothing to apologize for," he muttered back.

 

A moment of quiet passed, then you whispered, "I really did have fun though."

 

"even if you didn't win?"  He pulled back a bit to smile at you; that warm, friendly smile you'd been missing.

 

"Yeah.  I didn't care.  I was just having a good time with...um."  You blushed behind your hair.  "With, y'know, you.  H-ha."

 

"me too."

 

"Ah."  Your heart gave a hard thud.  "Good."  You moved farther away and met his eyes.  Maybe you were projecting, but he looked as relieved as you felt.  You offered a small smile, tugged a lock of hair away from your face, and said, "Phew.  Ok.  Ok, yeah, between this and Toriel I am now…stupid tired.  It’s so lame but I’ve been, um, kinda depressed this past week.  Bad enough that she tried to fix it with delicious chili.”

 

“that’s tori for you,” he chuckled.  “pretty sure everyone’s vented over her cooking at least once.”

 

“She’s the best.”  You idly rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb, getting a light squeeze in response.  Tentatively, you squeezed back and asked, “So…we’re good?”  You’d been trying to deny that there was any sort of falling out between the two of you, but what was the point now that you’d made up?

 

"wanna watch a movie or something?"

 

You tensed in surprise.  Sans was watching you with his head tilted down, his smile twitching a bit at the corners.  He almost looked…shy.  Your fingers were still entwined, while his other hand rested on your arm, holding you without restraining you.  Your face heated up at the blue tinge to his cheekbones, and you couldn’t help thinking again, _God_ _I missed him._

“Sure,” you answered.  “Yeah, I’d…really like that.”

 

By the time Papyrus returned, you were both browsing Netflix from the couch, sitting too far apart to be touching but close enough that the renewed friendliness between you was clear.  Papyrus didn’t quite manage to hide his glee.  He covered his mouth with both hands and let out a little squeak at the sight of you.  You tried very hard not to look too embarrassed, while Sans just chuckled and asked, “something up, bro?”

 

“OH NOTHING,” he replied around his grin.  “I AM MERELY REVELING IN THE INGENIOUSNESS OF MY PLAN!!”

 

You immediately groaned and sunk deeper into the couch, bringing up the hood of your jacket to hide your blush.  From the corner of your eye you saw Sans’ smile widen.  He actually looked like he was enjoying this.  “oh yeah?  what plan’s that?”

 

“MY BRILLIANT PLAN TO RESTORE THE BALANCE OF COMRADERY IN YOUR LIFE, BROTHER!”  The tall skeleton struck a proud pose and a smug expression.  “A RESOUNDING SUCCESS, AS EXPECTED!!”

 

You pulled your hood further over your face, peeking out at Sans from between your fingers.  He was almost shaking with suppressed laughter.  Glancing at you, his face softened a bit with mercy as he said, “nice work, bro.  how bout you whip us up some victory snacks?”

 

“AH YES, THIS OCCASION DOES CALL FOR THE CULINARY PROWESS OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS!!”

 

Once he was in the kitchen, you whined, “ _Oh my god whyyy_.”

 

Sans chuckled.  He scooted a bit closer, sufficiently making you fall quiet but doing nothing to help your blush.  “what’sa matter?  it worked, didn’t it?”

 

You lowered your hands and looked at him.  He had one arm around the back of the couch, opening his chest toward you.  His grin was so earnest and content, you had to smile back at it.  “Yeah.  Guess it did.”

 

Right then, Catsup sprung up to your lap, making a big show of twisting onto her back and exposing her belly while purring.  You giggled and scratched behind her ears, eliciting a happy little chirp.  “I don’t think I expressed my full appreciation for Catsup.”

 

“would you believe she came with that name?”

 

“Nope.”  You quirked a teasing brow at him as the cat repositioned herself.  “No way you’re not the culprit.”

 

He shrugged and winked.  “alright.  you got me.  it’s true.  i doomed her to a life of obvious jokes.”

 

You were so busy laughing, you still hadn’t decided on a movie once Papyrus returned with two giant bowls of popcorn (you supposed the promise of spaghetti really was just a red herring), so he insisted on one of his all-time favorites:  “Ratatouille.”  He sat on the floor between you with a pillow hugged in his lap, while you and Sans slumped comfortably on the couch.

 

By the time Remy was trying to escape Gusteau’s kitchen, you realized you’d gotten a little _too_ comfortable.  You really were so, so tired.  You’d been working extra shifts for two weeks, you hadn’t had the relaxing escape of Sans’ company, and the past few hours had left you emotionally exhausted.  You could feel sleep settling over you like a heavy blanket.  Your body gradually relaxed; your head kept nodding; your blinks became slower and slower.  Without realizing it, you started tipping to one side, until you connected with something warm and solid and comforting.  Your half-asleep brain didn’t bother reading into it before you let out a sigh and drifted off.

 

You remember opening your eyes briefly when that source of warmth left you.  The movie was over, and Sans was quietly ushering his sleepy brother down the hall.  You blinked again and the warmth was back.  Something else was playing on the TV.  You were lying on your side, your head was cushioned, and you were sure you were dreaming when you felt hard, gentle fingers running through your hair.  You hummed quietly, nuzzled closer for comfort, and let yourself be lulled back into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catsup is loosely based on one of my clinic cats, Bobsie. She hates strangers (unlike Catsup), but if she likes you she does this Fucking Cute Thing where she'll jump on whatever counter you're standing by and reach up to your shoulder and DEMAND that she be picked up. Like, she'll cling to your shoulder and lift her back feet. She won't take no for an answer. She's an impatient whore for cuddles. My doctor could be writing an important document and she'll just walk right over it and get up on his shoulder and all he can do is sigh and try to finish what he's doing while simultaneously holding her. It's adorable as balls.


	22. Buddling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg you guys. I got so many new readers from that last chapter, oh dang, oh boy, that's amazing. My cool-but-stinky friend TotalSkeletonTrash maybe had a hand in that. She's great. Go read Chill or be Chilled, it's very choice, 10/10 would skarm again. 
> 
> And you beautiful readers you I'm sorry for the slight delay with this. I want ya'll to understand, I work...a lot. So much. Like I'm that stereotype in movies where the person works so much that they forget the importance of family and shit, so whenever I get to come home and write this and know that there's people out there who actually seem to enjoy it, it makes the grind a little less grindy. Seriously thanks so much.
> 
> AND!!! ALSO!!! MY VERY FIRST JOAT F.ART!!! - http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/143963032969/thegoatoverlord-so-i-read-all-of-jack-of-all CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE THAT SHIT I SURE CAN'T

A bar of sunlight fell across your closed eyes.  You let out a little grumble and buried your face deeper in your blanket, caught in that incoherent place between asleep and awake.  It was the weekend.  You didn’t want to get out of bed.  You’d been granted a rare Saturday off, and what better way to spend it than gaining back all your lost hours of sleep, staying in bed, snoozing with Catsup…

 

Your eyes creaked open in confusion.  You were facing the back of a couch, and you could feel the soft weight of a dozing cat curled up on your hip.  You groaned and rubbed your face, realizing you had fallen asleep wearing your jacket and that the addition of a quilt over you was making you too warm.  A few more blinks brought you clarity.  You suddenly gasped, flipped over, and stared in shock at Sans and Papyrus’ living room.  The motion caused Catsup to tumble from your hip to the couch, but it didn’t seem to wake her.

 

_Crap_.  You ran a hand through your tousled hair.  _Crap crap_.  _When did I fall asleep?  Where are they?  What time is it even?_   A glance at a wall clock answered that—10:14 am.  _How long was I out?!_

 

The memories of the previous night flooded back.  Your conversation with Toriel, Papyrus’ plan, making up with Sans, settling in for a late night movie, and then…

 

“mornin’.”

 

You jumped and turned toward the dining table.  Sans was sitting there sipping a cup of coffee, wearing sweats and a t-shirt and looking like he’d just woken up, too.  He offered a sleepy grin.  You offered a mortified wince.

 

“…I fell asleep.”

 

“heh, uh, yeah?”

 

Your head turned down to the blanket covering you, then to still-snoozing Catsup, and finally back to Sans.  He raised a quizzical brow as you remembered falling on his side, falling on his lap, his hands falling through your hair.  You hadn’t been dreaming.  Heat crept from your cheeks down your neck.  Yes, you were _definitely_ too warm.

 

“Whoopsie…doopsie?”  You pushed away the quilt and sat up, suddenly hyper-aware of your messy hair, rumpled clothes, and morning breath.  “S-sorry.  I don’t usually…y’know, fall asleep on— _at_ , at friends’ places, h-ha.”

 

“’s fine.”  His voice sounded rough from slumber.  You realized, with a twinge of panic, that you liked it.  “mi coucha su coucha.”

 

You couldn’t really focus on what he was saying, too distracted by the way he was looking at you with an indecipherable grin.  When you held his gaze a breath too long, his pupils flickered away, a bit of blue appearing on his face as if a mask had finally slipped.  He scratched the back of his neck and coughed and oh no, oh _no,_ was he remembering everything, too?

 

“Bathroom.”  You suddenly stood, not looking at him.  “Bathroom.  Need one.  Um…it’s, it’s down the hall, right?”

 

“yup.”  He took a hurried sip of coffee.  “yeah.  uh-huh.  right on down the hall.”

 

You speed-walked through his apartment and shut the door behind you, keeping your hand on the knob as you took a few steadying breaths.  Now that you were alone and very much awake, your mind started rationalizing. 

 

_He remembers.  Of course he does, he was awake.  I was the sleepy idiot.  Me.  That was me._ You had to force the words not to weasel their way out your mouth.  No talking to yourself, not now, not when you were already feeling crazy.  _How could I have…I just straight up…we were… **cuddling**.  That’s normal, right?  Platonic cuddling?  Cuddling with buddies?  Buddling?_

Your thoughts were devolving into nonsense, and as you turned to meet your eyes in the mirror, something unexpected happened.  A grin, wild and unbidden, bloomed across your cheeks.  This was ridiculous.  Just yesterday you’d thought you’d ruined your friendship with Sans, but now you were waking up in his home after falling asleep on his couch, _god_ , on his _lap_ , and you couldn’t stop the cocktail of relief and shock and shyness from making you giddy. 

 

This felt alarming.  This felt _good_.

 

You emerged from the bathroom after straightening your hair a bit and borrowing some toothpaste.  You’d managed to calm yourself, but seeing the back of his head as he checked his phone and sipped coffee in his pajamas, something so mundane yet so _surreal_ , brought the blush right back.

 

When he noticed you, he nudged a chair out with his foot.  You glanced down at the table to see another steaming mug.  Had he just gotten that for you?

 

“So where’s Pap?” you asked, accepting the seat and the coffee.

 

“undyne,” he rasped.  “goes n’ trains with her o’er th’ weekend.  runs n’ works out n’ shit.”

 

You raised the mug to your lips and forced yourself to be cool because yes, yup, his morning voice was definitely going to be distracting.  “Ah, right.  Do you, um, work today or…?”

 

“nah.  got th’ weekend off.”

 

“Huh.”  Another sip.  “Same.”

 

“huh.”

 

Maybe you were just imagining the weirdness in the air.  You snuck a glance at his face.  He was looking at his phone with a loose, sleepy grin, but his pupils were completely still, unfocused.  You didn’t say anything, just got out your own phone and set down your coffee.  You were both just quiet.  Not awkward or tense, but…there was something unspoken between you.

 

“So should we watch a—”

 

“d’you wanna get somethin’ to eat or—”

 

You both snapped your mouths shut, until you fumbled, “O-oh, um, are you hungry?”

 

“kinda.”  The blue was back on his cheekbones.  “but uh.  you were sayin’…maybe a movie, or…?”

 

“Y-yeah but you…want breakfast, right?  I’m kinda hungry too, so.  Um.”

 

“yeah.  and uh, y’know, we can watch whatever.”

 

Despite your efforts to look everywhere but at each other, your gazes intersected.  There was a moment of uncertain silence, then another, and then you snorted.  He snickered.  Smiles crept over your faces and soon you were laughing and feeling the nervous knot in your stomach unwind.  _God_ it felt good to be friendly again.

 

“Are we watching or eating?” you giggled.

 

“both?”  He beamed at you, finally looking at ease.  “breakfast first?”

 

“Breakfast first.”

 

The fridge was full of leftover spaghetti.  You decided reheated pasta was a perfectly lazy alternative to cooking.  Soon you were both sitting on the couch with one container each, your jacket abandoned and Catsup curled up between you.

 

“whatcha in the mood for?” Sans asked, flipping through Netflix options too fast to properly comprehend.

 

You responded around a mouthful of spaghetti, “I don’t even know what kinda movies you like.”

 

He shrugged.  “eh, y’know.  usually watch whatever pap’s in the mood for.”

 

“Uh…ok, but what do _you_ like?”

 

He stopped scrolling for a moment to think about it.  “i guess…sci-fi’s pretty cool.  haven’t seen too many movies since, y’know, being topside.  but the kid showed us star wars _days_ after we got out.  they said it was important.  those were awesome.  so, heh, yeah.  sci-fi’s what i like.”

 

“Sci-fi?”  You remembered your trip to the planetarium, the way he’d been so enthusiastic and youthful.  You weren’t surprised at all.  With a grin, you reached over and took the controller from his hands, saying, “Guess we’ve got that in common.”

 

“yeah?”

 

“Yup.  I know exactly what we’ve gotta watch.”

 

You didn’t give him time to read the description or watch the preview before turning on _Alien_.  Your smile grew in excitement as your eyes flicked between the opening scene and Sans’ face.  He started with a somewhat bemused grin, but as the film showed off the incredible set that was the Nostromo, his expression became attentive.  Soon he wasn’t the only one as you got re-absorbed in one of your favorite movies, only offering occasional commentary.  You both gave startled little chuckles when the face-hugger first appeared; he gave you suspicious glances when you plugged your ears and shrunk in preparation for the scares you knew were coming; and when the chest-bursting scene finally happened, he let out a disbelieving, “woah, _what,_ no.”

 

You burst out laughing.

 

“you said you watched this as a _kid?_ ”

 

“It’s a classic,” you explained, still giggling.  “That part’s probably the most widely-known movie scene in history.  It’s awesome, right?”

 

“i mean, yeah, but god.  eugh.”

 

“Just wait.”

 

You were happy to realize that Sans was as much of a movie-talker as you were.  Both of you would react and squirm and laugh together at every new horror.  When at last the alien appeared in all her glory, Sans pointed and said, “wait a minute.”

 

“What.”

 

“knew a monster like that underground.  yeah.  wow.  he was a nice guy, some kinda accountant?  that’s uncanny.”

 

You couldn’t keep the blunt terror off your face as you hissed, “ _You guys had fucking xenomorphs?_ ”

 

He fell apart, wheezing and laughing as he placed an apologetic hand on your shoulder.  “oh my god _your face_ , no, god.  i’m kidding, i’m kidding.”

 

The rest of the movie carried on, with Sans acting appropriately in love with Ripley by the time of her climactic battle, and you thought he might’ve let out a sigh of relief when the cat, thankfully, didn’t get murdered..  After it ended, you sat back with a satisfied grin and asked, “Well?”

 

“i thought humans _liked_ space,” he chuckled, giving Catsup a few pats.

 

“We love it!” you defended.  “We’re just…also a little terrified of it.”

 

“a little.”

 

“Ok a lot.”

 

Sans stood and reached for your now-empty tuperware bowl.  He took it to the kitchen, while in the meantime you continued looking through the sci-fi section of Netflix.  You wanted to show him that yes, while humans might have a love-hate relationship with the universe, it was mostly love.  So you found another classic and queued it up.

 

He came back in and looked almost surprised to see you still sitting there.  You tensed for a moment.  Had he assumed the hang-outs were over?  Why hadn’t you assumed the same thing?

 

“Um,” you started, suddenly noticing how casually you’d nestled yourself into the couch.  Just when had you let yourself get so comfortable?  “Sorry, did you, uh…are you down for another?”

 

After a moment, the surprise cleared for something you couldn’t read.  He sat back down, a little closer this time, and replied, “definitely.”

 

_WALL-E_ was probably the polar opposite of _Alien_ as far as sci-fi went.  Even the opening was an almost startling contrast, going from silent and foreboding to full of wonder and scored with optimistic show-tunes.  Somehow he seemed to enjoy it just as much, laughing earnestly at all the kid-friendly antics. 

 

You hardly noticed while it was happening, but as the movie went on, you were both naturally sloping closer on the couch.  You leaned in his direction—his arm that faced you was slung over the back.  Eventually it got to the point that Catsup had far less space to herself, squished between you two and looking not at all unhappy for it.

 

“See?” you said as the credits rolled.  “We totally like space.”

 

“alright, fine.”  He smiled and raised a challenging brow.  “got any more?”

 

You did.  You’d been thinking about what else to show him throughout _WALL-E_ , and with a wordless smirk you turned on _Apollo 13_.  Of all the movies you’d thought of, this was the one that had the most potential to be branded as “boring.”  No aliens, no robots, honestly nothing sci-fi about it, but to your surprise, he seemed more invested in this one than the previous two.

 

As absorbed as he was, you were increasingly distracted.  The shrinking distance between you was becoming impossible to ignore.  When you noticed your shoulder making contact with his side, the back of your head naturally pressing against his arm, you tensed.  Your eyes flitted to their corners to observe Sans.  His pupils were fixed on the screen, but as you looked he shifted a bit to make himself more comfortable, consequently bringing even more of your body against him.  Catsup was being slowly squeezed from her spot on the couch, with her top half now flopping over Sans’ lap.

 

_Apollo 13_ ended, and he breathed, “wow.  that was intense.”

 

“Yeah, and know what else?”  You were already moving toward your next selection.  “That’s not even sci-fi.  That’s like…sci- _non_ -fi.  _Apollo 13_ ’s one of the most historically accurate movies out there.”

 

He looked at you with wide eyes.  “that actually happened?  the whole thing?  they all made it?”

 

You turned to respond, but your throat closed when you suddenly realized that, with the way you were positioned, his face was above yours and much, much closer than usual.  You swallowed and managed to reply, “Um…yeah.  Yup.  All that.”

 

“shit.  that’s _way_ scarier than aliens.”  He slumped a bit, and your cheek was almost pressed against his underarm.  You quickly turned to the TV so he couldn’t see how flushed you were becoming.

 

“I’ve, um…got one more.  If you want.”

 

“lay it on me.”

 

This was by far your favorite, and the most recent release.  _Interstellar_.  You were a sucker for gorgeous imagery, which this movie had in spades, and yet you weren’t paying attention to any of it.  You were too busy thinking about how hard and bare his bony arm was against your head; how the cat between your leg and his was gradually moving out of the way; and how, at this proximity, you could smell him.  Snow and tomatoes, like always.  You realized with a burn of embarrassment that even being this close, closer than you’d been for any waking period of time, you weren’t close enough.  You wanted more.  You couldn’t deny that to yourself.  You wanted to eliminate that last bit of distance and rest your head against his ribs, but you would never find the courage, you were sure he wasn’t even noticing the closeness, you just kept repeating the stupid word “ _buddling_ ” in your mind over and over.

 

Suddenly, after a particularly tense scene, Sans visibly slumped and let out a rush of held air.  With the motion, he brought his hand down from the back of the cough to fall on your shoulder.  At the same time his slouch caused your head to turn until your cheek was pressed to the front of his t-shirt.  You froze.  The buzzing under his clothes was gentle and quiet.  Relaxed.  Enough so that you could feel the curve of ribs through the fabric.  As if that wasn’t enough, Catsup finally decided to find somewhere else to snooze and hopped down from the couch.  The sides of your thighs pressed together in her absence.

 

You tensed more, too scared to move or adjust or even look at him.

 

“you ok?”

 

You were more than ok, yet at the same time not ok at all.  You swallowed and forced yourself to turn up to him.  A huge mistake, it turned out.  He looked similarly uncertain, tense, flushed, and sweet, and he was staring right at you, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling that was as scary as it was titillating.

 

“Yup, I’m good.”  You tried to sound casual, but it came off as terrified.

 

“cool.”

 

“Cool cool?”  Your voice just kept getting squeakier, and when he gave the shoulder under his hand a light squeeze, your voice left completely.

 

The door suddenly opened with a bang.  “THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS RETURNED, GREATER AND SWEATIER THAN BEFORE!!”

 

In synchronized embarrassment, you both sat straight up with your hands in your lap.  The slow magnetism that had taken four movies to bring you together was reversed in a fraction of a second.

 

“heya, paps.”  How was he able to sound so calm?  “have fun workin’ out?”

 

He started to answer, but his eyes narrowed as he looked between the two of you and the still-playing movie.  “WAIT A MINUTE.  HAVE YOU BEEN LAZING AROUND ALL DAY??”

 

You glanced out the window.  The sun was already setting, and _Interstellar_ wasn’t even over.  Your mouth fell open in shock.  You’d truly been sitting there for _hours_ without noticing the time go by.  Your stomach growled as the realization hit you—you hadn’t eaten since the breakfast spaghetti.

 

Sans just shrugged in response.  “what can i say?  _movies_ just sounded better than _moving_ today.”

 

Papyrus stomped his foot and cried, “UNBELIEVABLE!  WERE YOU _AT ANY POINT_ PLANNING ON BEING PRODUCTIVE?  OR EVEN LEAVING THE HOUSE??”

 

“actually.”  He scratched his sternum nonchalantly.  “i was wondering if you and naya’d wanna go to the park tonight.  check out some stars.  who knows…”  His gaze slid to you as his cheeks turned a shade bluer.  “maybe we could even dig out that old telescope.  see if it’s still kickin’.”

 

Papyrus’ disapproval quickly turned to excitement.  He gasped, “WOWIE!  WHAT AN UNCHARACTERISCALLY GREAT IDEA, BROTHER!!”

 

“yup.  but we gotta wait til it’s dark so, uh, why don’tcha go get ready while we finish this—”

 

“I SHALL PREPARE A NIGHTTIME-PICNIC FEAST!!” he declared, marching toward the kitchen.

 

You continued to stare at Sans after you heard the sound of clattering pots and pans.  “Nighttime-picnic?” you repeated.

 

“just if you wanna.  i know i kinda kept you here all day, no worries if you gotta get home.”  He coughed and seemed to once again be focused on the movie, but his darkening blush betrayed him.

 

“I wanna,” you assured quickly.  He glanced at you; you glanced away.  “Yup.  Definitely wanna.”

 

* * *

 

 

The stars were coming out by the time you arrived at the park.  Papyrus quickly found the perfect hill to set up the picnic, rolling out a blanket and humming tunelessly as he unpacked the basket.  He’d made sandwiches, lemonade, and another batch of spaghetti (“IN CASE OF EMERGENCY!” he’d explained).  You were keeping your eyes on the large tripod telescope slung over Sans’ shoulder.

 

You and Papyrus tucked into your sandwiches while Sans arranged his telescope.  You smiled at the careful way he handled it, the nostalgic smiles he would let slip, and the excitement in his eyes as he kept glancing up at the darkening sky.

 

“I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT THING IN YEARS,” Papyrus commented with a full mouth.  “WHAT MAKES YOU BRING IT OUT NOW?”

 

“dunno.  call it a tele- _stroke_ of genius.”  He chuckled as he stepped away from the telescope, making sure it was standing stably.

 

“I WILL FORGIVE THE PUN IF I CAN TAKE MY TURN FIRST!!”

 

Sans did one last bit of fiddling before saying, “go for it, bro.”

 

Papyrus squealed, scrambled to his feet, and hopped over to the telescope, bending almost ninety degrees at the waist to bring his head down to the eyepiece.

 

You followed with a laugh.  You stood next to Sans as the tall skeleton worked on the focus, giving him a little smile.  “Seriously.  What gave you the idea?”

 

He shrugged.  “guess all those space movies put me in the mood.  you _interspired_ me.”

 

Before you could respond, Papyrus said, “IT’S NOT WORKING, ALL I SEE IS…PINK!”

 

Sans’ smile was completely flat as he replied, “huh.  weird.  maybe the old thing’s broken after all.”

 

“Here, Pap, lemme take a look,” you offered.

 

You didn’t glance at the skeleton as he backed away to let you at it, and you looked into the eyepiece just as Sans’ expression cracked and he stammered, “woah, w-wait, naya—”

 

Sure enough, there was nothing but pink, like the lens was blocked or something.  You pulled back with a frown and turned to the brothers, saying, “That’s the weirdest thing.  Maybe you should…”

 

Papyrus was staring at you with a frozen, furious expression, his jaw open and his eyes bulging.  He spun on Sans, who was snorting into one hand, and scolded, “REALLY, SANS?  HERE?  AFTER ALL THIS TIME??”

 

You cocked your head in confusion, then you noticed the ring of what looked like pink paint circling one of Papyrus’ eye sockets.  You blinked a few times before reaching up to touch your face.  Sure enough, your fingers came away wet with paint, and you suddenly remembered the story Sans had told you about how he’d prank the other kids underground with his telescope.  Your mouth immediately twisted as you tried to hold in the laughter.

 

“IF IT WAS JUST ME THAT WOULD BE ONE THING, BUT NAYA?  OUR POOR, WONDERFUL, INNOCENT HUMAN FRIEND _NAYA?!_ ”

 

“’s just for old time’s sake, bro.”  Sans sounded like he could hardly get the words out.  His eyes were scrunched with mirth as he looked up at the taller skeleton, but he at least managed to look semi-apologetic when he glanced at you.

 

Your giggles finally got away from you, and as you tried to catch your breath you gave Sans a light shove and laughed, “Can’t believe _eye_ ”—you pointed at the painted eye for emphasis—“fell for that one!”

 

“UGH, YOU ARE _BOTH_ INTOLERABLE!”  Papyrus threw up his hands in exasperation before retrieving a napkin from the picnic basket to wipe off the eyepiece.  Sans kept chuckling with you as his brother took another look, this time letting out a victorious “NYEH!” when the telescope worked.

 

“that was just s’posed to be for him,” Sans admitted, wincing a bit at your face.

 

“No biggie,” you replied with a grin.  “I’m actually honored.  That’s your classic prank, right?”

 

He laughed softly, and then reached out to try wiping away some of the paint with his thumb.  You didn’t shy away from the contact, but still gave your hair a nervous little tug.  You snorted when he pulled his hand back with a grimace.

 

“Are you just making it worse.”

 

“maybe.”

 

“Look mommy, monsters!”

 

You both looked around at the sudden voice.  A young boy was walking on a nearby path, holding his mother’s skirt with one hand and pointing with the other.  When Sans turned to give the kid a grin, he let out a gasp and ducked behind the skirt, while his mother frowned down at him.

 

“Don’t point, sweetie, they’re just having a picnic.”  You felt a twinge of relief when the woman shot you and Sans an apologetic look.  You could never tell which people would be kind when it came to monsters.

 

“we don’t mind,” Sans assured her.

 

Papyrus popped up from the telescope, blinking curiously down at the little boy.  He slapped on a huge grin and started strolling over to the mother and child, beaming and booming, “GREETINGS, TINY HUMAN!  DID YOU WANT TO TRY THE TELESCOPE, TOO?”

 

The boy took one look at the towering skeleton coming toward him before letting out a wail.  You felt Sans tense beside you, while Papyrus’ happy expression quickly fell into one of confusion.  Without thinking, you went to the tall skeleton’s side and took his hand, bending down a bit to the kid’s eye level.  “It’s ok, look.  He’s nice.”

 

The woman looked mortified as she pressed her child to her, saying, “I’m so sorry!  I-it’s not you, he’s just always been a little scared of…well.”  She cast a nervous look at Papyrus’ body.  He was still wearing workout clothes—just shorts, a tank top, and sweatbands—and the minimal fabric showed off how abnormal he was to human eyes.

 

You glanced up at Papyrus’ innocent, hurt face, then back to the crying child, and then to Sans.  He was standing to the side with a hard grin, the lights gone from his eye sockets.  You let your eyes linger on him for a moment before turning back to the woman with a weak smile.  “We understand.  Don’t worry about it, and sorry for startling him.”

 

“Yes,” Papyrus added.  His voice was quiet and careful.  “I am sorry, I assure you I meant no harm.”

 

She nodded and started guiding her child away, still looking embarrassed.  You were still holding Papyrus’ hand, and you gave it a reassuring squeeze as you looked up at him.

 

“I’m really sorry, Pap.”  You always felt at least partially responsible for your fellow humans’ behavior.

 

“It’s alright.”  He smiled down at you, though it didn’t quite touch his eyes.  “That’s not the first child to be overwhelmed by The Great Papyrus, and it likely won’t be the last!”

 

You tried not to let your face look too sympathetic.  You both started walking back to the telescope, with Sans trailing after you.  His expression wasn’t quite angry, but his pupils hadn’t returned and he kept his head down.  He looked deep in thought.

 

“That’s just how kids are,” you said.  “I’ve had kids ask me, like, why I’m brown and stuff.  They don’t have filters.  They don’t mean anything by it.”

 

He perked up a little as he gave you a quizzical look.  “Why would they ask something like that?”

 

You blinked.  “Oh.  Uh, y’know, cuz not everyone’s…I don’t look the same as some people, I guess?”

 

He blinked right back.  “But you humans _all_ look the same!”

 

Coming from anyone else, that comment might have been insulting, but from him it was reassuring.  A smile crossed your face as you realized that to any monster, that must be true.  “Wow.  I never thought of it that way.  How…how do you guys even tell us all apart?”

 

“VERY CAREFULLY!”  Papyrus seemed to have sufficiently cheered up, as he returned to looking through the telescope with as much curiosity as before.

 

You chuckled at his answer, but turning back to Sans brought your mood back down a bit.  He’d gone from looking dark and thoughtful to just looking tired.  You frowned as you tried to think of how to reassure him.  No doubt he was feeling protective of his brother, the same protectiveness you felt whenever someone looked at Sans like he was a prop or a sideshow.

 

“Hey.”  You slid your hand into his—the motion had become so natural, even you didn’t mind instigating it.  “It’s not a big deal.  She was nice about it, he was just a kid.”

 

“i know,” he sighed.  He finally gave you a small smile and added, “it’s ok.  i’m just being…heh.”

 

“I get it.”  You gave his hand a light squeeze before slipping away to stand by Papyrus.  “Hey, mind if I have a go at it?”

 

Despite the tension brought on by the child, you were all able to fall back into contentment.  You all took turns looking through the telescope, studying the crescent moon, picking out constellations, and even finding what Sans told you was Mars.  While one person stargazed, the other two sat and ate and looked up at the sky with naked eyes.  At one point, Papyrus was trying to connect the dots of what he was sure would be a new constellation, and you and Sans were laying back on the grass, enjoying the wind quietly rustling the trees around you.

 

“This is our second space-themed hang out,” you commented.

 

“can never have too many,” he chuckled.  All night, he’d still seemed more subdued than usual.  Even now his eyes were dim and distant, and his grin sagged a bit.  “hey, uh…naya.”

 

“Yeah?”  Your heart gave a nervous thump.  Any topic starting with “hey uh Naya” couldn’t be casual.

 

“we, um…ok, we’re still not talking about shit.  you never have to if you don’t wanna, but can i, uh…can i admit somethin’?  real quick?”

 

“Yeah, of course.”  You turned your head to face him.  He was still looking up at the sky.

 

“kay.  uh…so the other day.  at laser tag.  i thought when you had your…y’know…i thought it was cuz you got…um.  cuz i scared you.”

 

You furrowed your brow.  “You mean, like…startled me?  Cuz I was a little caught off guard but—”

 

“no, not…uh.”  He looked abashed.  “i mean like…the lighting was weird in there, lotsa shadows, and i’m…y’know.”  He gestured to himself, to his face.  “spooky scary.”

 

Your eyes widened in realization.  You turned fully toward him and said, “What?”

 

He finally looked at you.  Even though he was lying down, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and the look on his face was caught between trying-to-be-casual and sad.  It was enough to make your chest ache.  “yeah.  like just now, with that kid.  pretty dumb, right?”

 

“Sans, I…”  You thought back to that day.  You remembered the way the black lights had given his bones that ethereal glow, the way the shadows gave him such contrast and the way his pupils had shone out of dark, dark eye sockets.  The memories made you shudder with something that had _nothing_ to do with fear.  “I definitely was _not_ scared of you.  I’ve never been scared of you.  Not once.”  You needed him to _know_ that.

 

He seemed to slump a fraction, his smile relaxing.  “not ever?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“not even when i was getting paid to spook you?”

 

You smirked a bit.  “Nope, not even then.”

 

“dang.  and here i’m supposed to be a professional.”

 

You laughed, lying back down and glancing upwards.  “Maybe you’re losing your touch.”

 

“maybe i am.”

 

You looked back at him, your expression freezing to see him looking at you, too.  His cheekbones were blue and his pupils were bright.  You felt a blush warm your own cheeks when his hand slid toward yours in the grass, his fingers locking between yours and squeezing.  You swallowed as your eyes flicked over his skull and took in the way the dim moonlight painted him silver in some places and black in others.  A fluttering started in your gut, so strong and insistent that you had to turn away, back to the stars.

 

No, it definitely wasn’t fear you felt whenever you looked at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was too god damn diddly long i s2g
> 
> but that's just because,,,,,  
> next chapter's..,,,,,,,,,,
> 
> something's gonna happen and,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,and hoo boy,,,,,
> 
> better loosen those buttholes cuz,,,,,,,,,,,,!!!


	23. HOOOOO boy

The nightmare was different this time.

 

Things were clearer.  There was your old ceiling fan, your old nightstand, the old comforter that was always too hot in the summer.  You dug your fingers in it and _felt_ it, like it was there.  Like you were back.  You were young again, and this was the worst night of your life.

 

Hands were at your wrists and lips were at your neck.  You tried to take a breath even as teeth crunched down on your windpipes and reduced your screams to hisses.  You flinched at the long hair brushing against your chest.  You tried to use your legs, but the weight of her had made them numb.  You couldn't move.  You couldn't speak.  You couldn't fight.  You couldn't fight.  You could never fight it.

 

She had you, and you would never escape.  No matter where you ran, where you lived, no matter how much time passed and how many new faces and names you filled your world with, she would find you.  Here.  In the place behind your eyelids where you were well and truly alone.

 

You shot up and gasped like you'd just been drowning.  You pressed your palms to your eyes, half sobbing, half wheezing.  It took longer for reality to reassure you.  Your hands still felt the fibers of that comforter.  Your legs still felt numb.  That had been entirely too real.

 

Your fingers shook as you pulled them away from your face.  Why had this one been so vibrant?  So much more like a memory?  Your eyes flitted to the hair tumbling around the sides of your head—longer than it had been.  Slowly, you closed your mouth and forced the air through your nose.  You flexed your fingers and bunched up your sheets, so much thinner than what you'd had before.  You didn't even let yourself blink as you stared down at your legs.  You wiggled your toes.  They could move.  You could get up if you wanted to.

 

This was here.  This was now.  You had nothing to be afraid of.

 

Your body sagged as your breathing finally returned to normal.  You fell back on your pillow and let a comforting surge of rationality wash through you.  You were alone.  You had work tonight.  You turned your head and saw that it was almost four in the morning.  You were awake, and everything around you was real.  This was just another nightmare, same as all the others.  You should be used to this. 

 

Why weren't you used to this?

 

Your eyes dropped from the clock to your phone sitting beside it.  Unconsciously, you reached for it.  You opened your messages.  You stared at the list of contacts and conversations numbly for a few moments, at one name in particular.  You hesitated, but why?  Because this wouldn't be the first time you'd sought him out after a nightmare?  Because you had no idea what you'd even say?

 

Biting your lip and sniffling, you opened the conversation with "Bean Sprout."

 

***You up?**

 

You dropped the phone on your chest and sighed.  He was probably trying to sleep, and if not, he would probably ask what you were doing.

 

A notification.  You lifted your phone urgently.

 

***knock knock**

***Who's there?**

***canoe**

***Canoe who?**

***canoe not sleep either?**

 

A few lingering tears leaked from your eyes as you chuckled to yourself.

 

***Not really, haha**

***Got any more jokes?**

***oh buddy**

***ur gonna regret that**

 

And just like that, after several texts of jokes that were each worse than the last, you were laughing.  You were breathing, clutching your phone, forgetting the nightmare, and laughing.  You sniffed and wiped the salt from your cheeks and retaliated with your own horrible humor.  It wasn't long before your blinks were getting longer.  Any time you nodded off, you didn't return to the dream.  You drifted off with your phone in hand and nothing but darkness to meet you.

 

You had the sleepy, relieving thought that even at four in the morning, Sans would always be there for you.

 

* * *

 

 

In the past week, you'd seen more of your friends than you really had time for.  You'd spent Sunday marathoning One Punch Man with everyone at Undyne and Alphys' place; on Monday you'd had a more committed guitar lesson with Frisk; and on the weekdays, you'd spent your breaks between jobs hanging around the school with Toriel, chatting and occasionally sitting in as she assisted classes. 

 

Sans' schedule was only getting busier with Halloween approaching, but there was rarely a time when you weren't carrying on a conversation with him.  You'd start your day with a good morning text and end by saying goodnight.  There were several times when Toriel would catch you blushing down at your messages, but instead of prying, she'd just give one of her knowing smiles.

 

So now, despite the dream waking you, you were in a cheerful mood.  You were serving tables at the comedy club and grinning up at Sans' act.  You moved your work to the bar when he finished, you were ready and waiting with a bottle of ketchup when he plopped down on a barstool, and you didn't fight the swell of affection that filled you at that lazy smile.

 

"Thought you were at the haunt tonight," you said, setting the bottle down in front of him.

 

"came from there," he replied after a swig.  "'s getting crazy.  you humans sure love halloween."

 

You shrugged and leaned against the counter opposite him.  "Eh.  It's alright."

 

"not a fan?"

 

"I don't hate it?  It's just not as fun since I'm A: too old for trick-or-treating, and B: not a drinker."

 

"hm."  He closed his eyes and took another sip.  "heh.  so no plans then?"

 

"Nope.  What about you?  Work?"

 

"first part of the night, yeah, but after that..."  He set down the bottle and ran a hand over the back of his skull.  You cocked your head at the new, uncertain grin on his face.  "clark's kinda throwing a big farewell party for everyone.  he's even closing early for it.  i work with a lotta teenagers so y'know, no alcohol.  probably be music, dancing, a shit-ton of candy.  gonna be quite a shindig."

 

You snickered.  "Was that a bone pun?"

 

"no, but it shoulda been," he chuckled.  "anyway.  clark told us to bring friends and family and shit.  pap's coming, pretty sure undyne and alphys are gonna tag along too.  and uh, i was wondering if...heh, y'know, if you don't have plans already."  He looked overly-nonchalant as he raised the ketchup back to his teeth.  "maybe you'd wanna go with us.  i dunno."

 

A blush started creeping up on you as you said, "You're...inviting me to a party?  With everyone?"

 

"yeah."  His eyes flickered briefly up to yours, and then the faintest hint of blue lit his cheekbones.  "with, uh...with me.  if that's ok."

 

_You mean like a date?_ your mind automatically clarified.  You swallowed and suddenly focused on wiping a rag over the countertop.  "Oh.  I mean.  Yeah."

 

"yeah?"

 

"Yes.  Yes I will...with um...I will, we will go.  Yes."  You scrubbed the same spot over and over, your cheeks hot and your gaze avoiding, but you spared a glance at him just in time to see a grin light up his whole face.

 

"heh.  ok.  temperate."  He hopped up from his stool and pocketed his hands.  He was still looking at you with that bright expression.  "it's uh, next weekend.  y'know.  on halloween."

 

"Right."

 

"club's closed.  you'll have the night off?"

 

"Right right."

 

"i think people are dressing up, so."

 

"Right, yeah, Halloween.  Costumes.  Got it."

 

"kay."

 

You were both silent for a moment, watching each other over the bar and feeling a tension that wasn't at all unpleasant.  You eventually coughed and brushed your hands on your apron, saying, "Ok.  That's, uh, decided, so.  I gotta..."  You gestured vaguely to the other patrons.

 

"yeah, yeah, right.  and i gotta run home, y'know.  uh...catsup's gotta eat."  He shrugged and glanced at the door.  "heh.  so i guess i'll just...see you when you get off?"

 

"Yeah, oh yeah for sure."

 

As he walked away with a final wave, you gave yourself a moment to slump against the back counter.  You'd been thinking about finding out what Sans and the others were doing for Halloween, maybe even asking to join in, but he'd just...asked you _out_.  You suppressed the idiotic smile that threatened to break out at the thought, reminding yourself that you were working.  You really did have other customers to attend to.  Save the geeking-out for when you were alone.

 

Even though you were trying to push it to the back of your mind, for the rest of your shift you kept seeing his blue blush and earnest grin.  It put an extra spring in your step and made the time go by quickly.  Unlike the past several nights you'd spent serving at the club, you weren't extra aware of your surroundings.  You didn't feel the need to be on the lookout for potential harassment.  You weren't glancing nervously at the door or constantly looking over your shoulder or sweeping the tables for a "Code Asshole."  You were just working distractedly, recalling the way he'd said "with me" again and again in your mind.

 

It was busy enough that you were kept a few minutes after two to help with cleanup.  The bartenders and cooks trickled out before you, until it was just you and a couple other waitresses left to lock the building.  You chatted with them when it was time to gather your things and go home, automatically reaching for your phone to check for texts from Sans.  You rummaged through your purse and jacket pockets, making it all the way to the bottom of the stairwell before you concluded that your phone wasn't there.

 

"Aw crap, think I left my phone inside," you muttered to your coworkers.  You glanced to the top of the stairs, knowing Sans would be waiting at the bus stop and briefly considering letting him know where you were.  "Uh, can you just tell my friend I'm grabbing it?  I'll lock up when I leave."

 

"The skeleton, right?"

 

"H-ha, yeah.  Tell him I'll be right out."

 

The basement club was dark and cavernous with all the chairs and tables pushed away, with only a safety light behind the bar to see by.  This wasn't the first time you'd been here after hours, but you still had to steel yourself a bit as your footsteps echoed through the empty room.

 

You searched the break-room; nothing.  You frowned and went to the bathroom to look, then to the supply closet.  No luck.  You usually didn't even check your phone during work, so how it managed to find its way out of your jacket pocket was a mystery.  You sighed in frustration and went back toward the bar, wondering if you'd somehow left it behind the counter.

 

"Looking for this?"

 

You rounded a corner and froze.  Sitting at the bar with two full glasses before him, your phone dangling lazily from his hand, was Cody.  Your blood went cold.  Any train of thought was halted, and somehow the first thing to run through your startled mind was the phrase "Code Asshole."

 

He raised a brow and smirked.  "Surprised?"

 

He was between you and the door.  Sitting, not truly blocking, but you couldn't pass him.  He had your phone.  He was forcing you to engage.  He shouldn't be there.

 

"How did you get in here?" you asked in a small, shaking voice.

 

"I came in the front," he chuckled.  "Your bouncers aren't terribly thorough when they sweep the place.  Actually, I'm pretty sure he didn't check at all."  He casually pulled out the stool beside him.

 

"We're closed."  Your voice wasn't getting any firmer.

 

He raised his hands defensively and glanced down at the stool.  "Can you blame me for trying to get you alone?  C'mon, you've got to admit this drink's _long_ overdue."  He picked up one of the glasses and held it out to you with a charming grin.  "Don't you think you deserve a break after such a busy night?"

 

He had your phone—you couldn't call for help.  You supposed you could scream.  Would anyone hear you down here?  And what would happen _if_ you screamed?  He wasn't doing anything now, not yet, but what if you made a scene?  What if you resisted?

 

Your feet were rooted, and when you didn't move to accept the offer, Cody heaved a long-suffering sigh and rose.  You tensed even more.  You felt like a trapped mouse as he grabbed both glasses with one hand, still holding your phone in the other, and sauntered toward you.

 

"We're _closed_ ," you repeated, managing to take a step back.  "You have to go."

 

"You don't have to be so nervous," he soothed.  He walked and talked carefully, slowly, his eyes never leaving you.  You thought of a cat stalking a toy.  "I just want a little drink, a little chat.  Maybe we can get to know each other better."

 

He was standing a few feet in front of you.  He held out the drinks, while your phone was held securely by his hip.  He grinned at you and quirked a brow like there was nothing for you to do but accept.  Relent.  Like it was just a matter of time and persistence.  Like you'd sigh, roll your eyes, smile, take a drink, take a seat, and let him win.

 

"Give me my phone."

 

Cody blinked.  His smarmy expression faltered a touch as he brought your phone up to look at it.  He gave you a pandering glance and said, "You want this?"

 

You held out a trembling hand.  "Give it to me, please.  I have to go."

 

He regarded you for a moment, as if he was actually considering it, but then he placed the glasses back down on the bar and snickered down at your lock screen.  "You're pretty anxious to get this back, huh?"

 

He was fiddling with the pattern password.  You felt something give a violent lurch inside you.  Without thinking, you made a desperate slash for your phone, but he quickly held it high out of your reach.  He was so much taller than you.

 

"Woah-ho, girl!  Someone's eager!" he laughed.  He took several steps backwards and away from you, toward the stage, still grinning and tapping his fingers experimentally over the screen.

 

"Give it back," you repeated, following him.  The shaking had gone from your limbs to your whole body.

 

"What'sa matter?" he teased, tossing you a playful smirk.  "Expecting a call or something?"  His eyes suddenly lit in victory and he announced, "Hey, I got it!"

 

The pounding started.

 

"Ooh, and you've got a new text!"  His laugh as he danced away from another of your grabs showed just how much he was enjoying this, and his delusional smile showed how sure he was that you were, too.  "C'mon, I'm curious!  Let's see, it just says, 'knock knock.'  Should I ask 'who's there?'"

 

Your breathing was hard and shallow from a combination of fear, adrenaline, and pounding.  Starting at your ribs and resonating all the way to your toes, over and under your skin, filling your ears.  You distantly remembered the chest-bursting scene in _Alien_ , how you'd laughed, how he'd joined in.

 

Cody moved through the curtains that led backstage, still laughing.  You stopped for a moment before following, one side of your brain screaming at you to run, to turn around and make it out the door before he could catch you, but the other part was single-minded.  You had to get your phone back.  You had to get him to leave.

 

When you pushed aside the curtains, you couldn't see Cody right away.  The backstage area was lit by a single red light on the wall, casting eerie shades and shadows on the cluttered supplies stacked all around.  You swallowed and took a step forward.

 

"Who is 'Bean Sprout' anyway?"

 

You spun around.  Cody had been just to the side of where the curtains split.  He grinned and strode toward you, still looking at your phone.  He was barring your escape.  You were completely alone, and he hadn't done anything yet but he _could_ , he could and he might, and you were defenseless.

 

_Thump.  Thump.  Thump._

 

"Give.  It.  Back."  Your words came out in weak hisses.  You naturally backed away from his advance.  You clutched your chest and could physically _feel_ each impact.  You were too scared to stop and realize it was so much stronger than a heartbeat.

 

"Come and get it!"  He opened his arms invitingly, still holding the phone above your head.

 

Your back hit a wall.  The breath caught in your lungs as the torrent of fear became a maelstrom.  He was staring at you with sharp eyes, grinning at you with perfect teeth, but as your hands scrabbled against the wall you started to see another attractive smile, a pair of dark, full lips, a set of heavy-lashed eyes.  The red light over half of his face was tricking your vision.

 

He loomed over you and dangled the phone in front of you.  This was all a game to him.  "How about a trade?  You get your phone, I get your number.  Fair?"

 

You grabbed for it.  He yanked it upwards, at the same time swinging his other arm around to snatch your wrist.  He laughed.  He held you there.  His squishy fingers dug into you and you were trapped.  You jerked back and pressed against the wall and stared up at him blindly, because he wasn't there anymore.  His face had melted away, his hair had grown and, for just an instant, she was there.  She was standing right there.

 

The door burst open.  Your chest burst open.

 

A flood of gold, then a flash of blue, and you _pushed_.

 

Your arm was free.  You saw Cody moving like he was falling, but sideways.  You remembered the glass of water soaking his tie.  He collided with the opposite wall and let out a cry, crumpling to the ground, clutching his head.  He was hunched over something, a green thing, a familiar thing.

 

You were dimly aware that you'd started hyperventilating, but nothing felt real.  You worked in slow motion as your hands checked your chest, half expecting to find a gaping hole there.  You were looking through someone else's eyes when your head tilted down and saw the yellow heart bobbing in front of you.

 

"Wh-what the hell?!"  Cody struggled to his feet, eyes flitting between the heart before you and, oh, look at that, he had one too.  Dull green.  Sickly.

 

You were just staring at your hands.  You were shaking.  You knew that reality was coming for you, like a tsunami closing in, but it hadn't reached shore yet.

 

Your lack of reaction seemed to make him angrier.  Fueled by fear and alcohol, he started toward you, one hand balled in a fist and the other swiping at the green heart.  The motion pushed it a bit before his hand phased through, and he let out a yelp when his feet stumbled as if he'd been shoved.

 

"What the fuck did you do?!"

 

"S t o p."

 

You both froze.  You turned to the curtain. 

 

Sans stood with his hands in his pockets, the red light turning bone to blood.  His grin was the biggest you'd ever seen it.  His pupils were gone and his eyes were wide and for the first time, you understood his worries.

 

Who _wouldn't_ be afraid of him?

 

"You."  Cody scowled and glared at Sans.  "Did you do this?  Did you do some...freaky monster shit?!"

 

Sans ignored the man, and you felt his dark eyes turn on you.  "are you hurt?"

 

You couldn't answer.  You just held your hands before you on either side of the yellow heart.  You jaw worked silently.  You couldn't accept that he was there.

 

Cody looked between you as the rage built.  "Hey, answer me!" he barked.  He whipped from Sans to you and took a step forward, "Don't ig—"

 

He suddenly fell to his knees with a grunt.  Sans had one hand out of his pocket, raised loosely.  You sucked in a breath to see his left eye no longer empty, but burning, flashing and casting a swathe of cyan light amidst the red.

 

"L i s t e n," he drawled.  Cody let out a protesting cry as he tried to rise, but it was like he was being crushed under the foot of an invisible giant.  Sans shrugged and slumped his body in a show of casualness, his hard expression remaining.  "i'm a guy who really believes in mercy.  so i'll tell you what.  give up, go home, and forget you ever set foot in this bar."  His fingers tensed ever so slightly.  Cody squealed.  "and maybe i won't squash you like a roach."

 

With his last grain of rebellion, the man scowled up at you and hissed, "Are you just gonna stand there and let it do this?!  Anaya, you—"

 

Too fast, Sans threw his hand to one side, and Cody followed.  His body spun and slammed against a wall and stayed there.  He wasn't even touching the ground.

 

"Y o u  d o n 't  s a y  h e r  n a m e."

 

Your mouth was gaping.  The shock delayed crushing reality a bit longer, and in a haze, you stumbled toward Sans.  His burning eye snapped to you for a moment.  It flitted over every part of you, stopping for a moment on the floating heart, then settling on your stricken expression.  His grin widened, and his eye flashed pale yellow for a moment.

 

"heh.  so lemme guess..."

 

_Slam_.

 

"you snuck in here thinking, hey, maybe you'd get lucky."

 

_Slam_.

 

"maybe she'd finally give in.  maybe she'd say yes.  maybe she'd think you were being cute, coming in here after hours.  surprising her."

 

_Slam, slam._

 

"so tell me.  how'm i gonna convince you to take a hint?  is it not clear or something?  are you just not getting the message?"

 

He spread his fingers in front of him.  Cody was suspended in the air, barely conscious, blood dripping from his nose and mouth.

 

"well?"  He flexed his fingers, drawing out a faint gurgle.  "D o  I  h a v e  t o  s p e l l  i t  o u t  f o r  y o u?"

 

"Sans."  You finally found your voice.

 

His eye turned on you once again.  He froze, his grin twitching and the cyan glow dimming.  Your face was blank and slack, your eyes still wide with shock.  It didn't occur to you to be afraid as you reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie.

 

"We have to go."

 

There was just a breath of hesitation before he dropped his hand.  Cody slumped to the ground with a groan.  The blue ring in his eye socket stopped flaring, his grin fell, and he turned to you.  He didn't spare his victim a glance before he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the curtain, across the room, toward the exit.

 

He opened the door and you followed him through.  It took you a moment and a blink to realize you weren't at the bottom of the stairwell, but in a bedroom.  You spun around; the door to the club was gone.  You kept turning your head in wild confusion until Sans stood in front of you, his hands raised, placating.

 

"hey, hey, calm down."

 

"Wh-where—?"

 

"my room.  my apartment.  i'm sorry, i took us here, i should've warned you."

 

"How, how did—"

 

"it's easier to take someone with me if they're already prepared to transition.  breathe.  you're safe."

 

Your eyes flitted around.  Messed up sheets, clothes littering the floor, a shade-less lamp, a dismantled telescope.

 

"breathe, naya."

 

You did.  You held your chest and forced yourself to go in through your nose, out through your mouth.  You realized the heart had disappeared.

 

"S...sorry I was..."

 

Sans was guiding you gently to his bed.  He eased you down on its edge and said, "what is it?"

 

"Sorry I w-was...late, I...had to g-get my ph-phone, went back i-in..."

 

"your coworkers told me."

 

Your mouth started moving soundlessly.  You were staring down at your chest.

 

"naya."  You didn't answer, but when he placed his hands softly on either side of your face, you turned to look at him.  His eyes were back to normal, searching yours.  "naya, are you ok?"

 

It took you a moment to reply, "Yes."

 

"did he touch you?"  His voice was a harsh whisper.

 

"N...no.  Just my..."  You raised your hand, your wrist.  Your mind flashed back to pressing yourself against the wall.  The pressure on your back.  The changes in his face.  The tricks of your memory.

 

"are you ok?" he asked again, more insistently.

 

"...I don't know."

 

He searched your face for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he stood.  He kept one hand on your cheek as he instructed, "wait here.  you're safe here.  i promise i'll be right back."

 

When he started to move away, you said, "Where are you going?"

 

He didn't answer right away, but you saw his pupils flicker.

 

"Where?"

 

"i'll be right back."

 

He pulled away again.  Something carnal and fearful inside you caused you to clutch at his wrist and stop him.  "Sans."

 

"i need to make sure he won't—"

 

"Sans, I did something."

 

His expression tightened.  He didn't say anything.

 

"I did something."

 

"...i know."

 

"What did I _do?_ ”

 

"listen, i promise we'll figure it out, i'll be right back, just let me—"

 

You held him tighter.  That tsunami was finally crashing against you, flooding through you.  This had been a waking nightmare.  You'd seen her, and then your chest had opened and you'd done something so, so strange. 

 

"Sans."  Your voice shook.  "Sans, I...I don't...I don't think I'm ok."

 

He met your eyes, and any lingering hardness melted from his face as he dropped back down, kneeling before you.  One hand cupped your face while the other rubbed up and down your arm.  "ok," he murmured.  "ok."

 

"What was that?" you whispered.

 

"i'm not sure," he replied.

 

"I...threw him."  Your voice was tapering out.  With reality came exhaustion, and you could already feel it wrapping its arms around you.

 

His eyes sharpened a bit with realization.  "we have to talk to tori.  she knows more about magic than anyone."

 

_Magic_.  The word spurned a weak thump against your ribs.  You blinked, unable to process it.

 

"tori will know what to do."  He started to stand again.

 

"W-wait."  You kept holding his wrist.  He softened and went still.  "Sorry.  It's just...late.  And I'm...I can't..."

 

"it's ok."  He slowly pushed your shoulder until you were lying on your side, not forcing you, just guiding you down.  "it's ok.  tomorrow.  for now, just..."  He briefly looked helpless.  His hand twitched a bit against your cheek while his other fluttered nervously over you.

 

You didn't have any more words.  You just stayed there in his bed as he knelt beside you, rubbing circles into your shoulder and tracing his thumb absently across your cheek.  Your eyes would flicker between him and empty space.  His pupils were downcast, unfocused, as if he was thinking.  The word magic repeated through your mind and drowned out everything else.  You had so, so many questions, but you couldn’t face them right now.  You couldn’t think about anything.  It was like you were watching yourself go through this from somewhere far away, and all you wanted to do was rest.

 

You weren't sure when you fell asleep, but once again, the nightmare was different.  Actually, it was much like it had been the previous night.  Too real.  Too much like a memory.  The weight of her and the pressure of bed against your back and the feeling of unwelcome lips on your throat.

 

But then your chest opened.  It split like a mouth with ribs for teeth, roaring up at her and throwing her against the ceiling.  You stared at her over your head and felt absolutely numb as her features morphed into those of a man.  Your eyes flicked to one side, and they followed, knocking over that old nightstand.  You could look anywhere, put them anywhere, without even lifting a finger.

 

You could control her.


	24. Frisk, get me the butt pie sTAT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ok oK OK OK OK, GUYS. SERIOUSLY YOU'RE ALL THE BEST. I was actually super nervous about what the response to the last chapter would be like. Actually I'm STILL really fucking nervous!! :D but ya'll are the RADDEST you're so nice and every single comment sends me into a fit of giggles and also crying. For REAL you're all my favorite.
> 
> SO I'MMA REMIND YOU GUYS TO POP OVER TO MY TUMBLZ @capnhanbers IF YOU GOT SPECIFIC QUESTIONS FOR ME! I gotta have dat accurate comment count but I keep seeing you askin shit I TOTALLY have answers for, so please ask over there!!
> 
> [Also another f.art!! :D](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/144273716504/badtiems-quick-sketch-from-capnhanbers-jack-of)

When you opened your eyes, you felt instantly awake and aware.  All the events of last night were as fresh in your mind as if you'd only slept a few minutes, but the rays of sun streaming in between the shutters let you know it was morning.  You groaned and rose slowly.  Your head was throbbing.

 

"hey."

 

You turned to see Sans sitting at a small desk by the bed.  He swiveled the chair toward you and leaned forward, holding a glass of water and a bowl of...something.  His pupils darted nervously over you, and even now, after everything that happened, you felt a twinge of hot embarrassment that this was the second time you'd slept over at his place.

 

"Hey," you murmured, pulling away the blanket and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.  You were missing your shoes and your jacket—had he removed them for you?

 

"here."  He offered the cup and bowl.  You accepted, but gave him a questioning look at the sight of the weird, beige mush with a spoon in it.  He winced a bit.  "heh, uh, paps left that for you.  i think it might be oatmeal...?"

 

"He knows I'm here?"  You raised a goopy spoonful to your lips.

 

"told him you got sick, crashed here."  He chuckled when your face scrunched up at the taste.  "he wanted to help make you feel better before going off with undyne."

 

"Aw," you mumbled.  You tried one more bite before giving up and passing the bowl to Sans.

 

He waited a few moments, giving you a chance to down the glass of water before asking, "how're you feeling?"

 

You looked down at the empty glass for a moment, turning it in your hands.  Physically you felt fine, other than the headache, but mentally...there was a thick numbness that was keeping you from panicking, and you didn’t know if that was a good thing.  "Not sure."

 

His smile faltered.  He glanced back at his desk for a moment, pupils flitting over the mess of papers and open laptop.  He started carefully, "i know you must be tired.  so, y'know, we don't have to...do anything.  not right away.  i got the day off, so no rush, you can take all the time you—"

 

"No."  Your voice was surprisingly calm.  You started to stand, eliciting a worried look from Sans which only faded once you were steady on your feet.  "No, I um...I gotta talk this out.  I have questions."

 

Sans searched your face for a moment before sighing, "yeah.  me too."

 

"Should we...y'know.  Head over there?"

 

He stood.  He ran a hand over the back of his skull, looking much more tired than you felt, and then gave you a hollow smile.  "guess so."

 

You could feel the emotions broiling in the pit of your stomach as you stared at him, all the questions and the fears, but your body acted without their consent when you quietly took his hand.  He looked surprised for a moment, then resigned.  He gave your fingers a squeeze; you squeezed back.

 

You were going to need him for this.

 

* * *

 

 

When Toriel answered her door, her open smile immediately fell into concern.  You realized you must've looked a mess—your hair was unbrushed, you had slept in your rumpled clothes, and you were sure you still wore an expression of numb uncertainty.

 

"Anaya, Sans, what is...?  Come in, come in, please."  She stepped aside and ushered you in with a paw on your back.

 

Frisk and Flowey were sitting at the dining room table, eating cereal and watching cartoons on a tablet.  They looked up when you entered.  Flowey's face went from that somehow-honest frown to a scowl at the sight of you; and Frisk reflected their mother's expression.  You tensed when their red eyes flickered quickly to your chest, to the place where that yellow heart had appeared.  How would they know to look there...?

 

"Sit down," Toriel invited softly.

 

Still holding Sans' hand, you both took a seat at the couch.  He was working his jaw and giving Toriel looks that seemed to convey some silent message.  "we uh...we gotta talk, t," he muttered.

 

"I can see that."  She regarded you for a moment before reaching out to tilt your chin up to her.  Her eyes searched yours, not like Sans had out of worry, but like a doctor looking for symptoms.  "Are you feeling alright, my friend?"

 

"I'm, um..."  You didn't know how to respond, and now you were feeling awkward at her inspection.  "I just...have some questions for you.  I guess."

 

"Of course," she murmured, brow knitting.  "Frisk, do we still have some leftover pie in the fridge?"

 

She took a seat while her child bustled to the kitchen, carrying Flowey while he griped, "Wait, what's going on?"  He craned his stem to try and get a better look at you, but quickly disappeared around a corner.

 

"Thanks, Toriel, b-but I don't think I can really...handle pie right now."

 

"You will need it," she said seriously.

 

You blinked, not comprehending, and then Frisk returned with a large slice of pie.  They were surprisingly solemn as they handed it over.  As they bent toward you, Flowey tilted his blossom to one side and squinted into your face.  You couldn't stop yourself from returning him with a confused look before he said, "Hey...what's wrong with your eyes?"

 

Frisk yanked him away and gave him a reprimanding frown.  You kept staring at him, mystified by the comment, until Sans growled, "he has to go away."

 

"What!"  Flowey protested.  "But I want to—"

 

"we can't talk in front of him."  He was looking at Toriel with a hard grimace, while his grip on you tightened.  "not about this."

 

The goat-monster was calm as she said, "Frisk, can you put Flowey in your room, please?"

 

They frowned, started to sign something, thought better of it, and went down the hall.

 

"H-hey, come on!" you could hear the flower whining.  "I live here too, y'know, I have every right to—"  His voice was cut off when the door to Frisk's room clicked shut.

 

"Now then," Toriel sighed.  She gestured to the plate in your hands and instructed, "Eat, please.  It will not do as much good as if it was fresh, but it will help."

 

Still confused, you took a bite.  It tasted like butterscotch and cinnamon.  The moment you swallowed, you felt a rush of warmth move straight to your chest, loosening muscles you didn't even know were tensed.  Another bite, and the warmth spread all the way through your body.  Instantly your breathing steadied, your heartbeat slowed, and you mind felt just a bit saner.  You stared down at the pastry in wonder.  This was like a concentrated dose of all the monster-food Toriel had ever fed you.

 

"Better?"

 

"Yeah, actually," you murmured.  "Thanks."

 

She nodded.  "Your Soul was rather drained, my dear."

 

"My...soul?"

 

Toriel just looked from you to Sans intently.  "We have much to discuss," she decided.  "Would you kindly tell me what happened?"

 

Nervously, you swallowed your mouthful.  How did she already seem to know so much?

 

"naya?"  Sans gave you a soft look.  "d'you want me to...?"

 

"No.  No, I...I got it."  You took a breath, but the words were already coming to you.  Maybe the pie had something to do with that.  "There's this guy who's been harassing me at work.  He's shown up a few times during my shifts, but last night, he um...snuck in.  After hours.  I was by myself, he'd gotten my phone somehow, and he managed to get me cornered and...and I don't even know if he was gonna try anything, but..."

 

Toriel's paw had joined Sans' on your knees.  "Did he touch you?" she asked, just as Sans had.  You were surprised to see a shadow of dark anger cross the monster's face.

 

"My wrist," you replied, your voice falling to a whisper.  You didn’t say the rest.  You didn’t tell them about your hallucination.  "He grabbed my wrist and I...my chest...it was like something broke out of it.  I pushed him away."  You were starting to shake.  Recounting it out loud made it realer than you were expecting.  "There was this...these hearts.  He had one, and I had one, they were just...floating there.  And then Sans came and..."

 

You felt him stiffen beside you.  Your hand trembled in his as you allowed yourself to remember his terrible power, Cody's body as it was thrown around the room, and that blue burning eye.  You wanted to ask about it, but one glance at the guarded, unhappy look on his face changed your mind.  "Sans stopped him.  And we left."  You blinked when a silly, trivial thought interrupted the scarier memories.  "And I never got my phone back."

 

"oh."  Sans suddenly reached into his pocket and, impossibly, produced your phone.

 

"How...when did you—"

 

"i went back after you fell asleep," he admitted.

 

"But what about...?"

 

"don't worry.  i took care of him."  When you and Toriel spun on him with tense expressions, he quickly reiterated, "woah, no, not like that.  i called the police.  made sure someone was gonna find him."

 

Toriel kept him fixed with a hard look a moment longer, then she turned back to you.  "You said you pushed him?"

 

You swallowed.  "Something like that."

 

"tori, i felt blue magic."

 

Her eyes widened.  "Are you certain?"

 

He nodded.  "i went in soon as i felt it.  it was fast, but i'm sure it was blue."

 

"What are you talking about?  What's 'blue magic'?" you asked in a quivering voice.

 

Toriel's face was shifting into something close to wonder.  She scooted closer to you, once again inspecting your eyes as she breathed, "Anaya, you say a heart appeared before you?"

 

"Y-yes."

 

"What color was it?"

 

"Yellow."  You were shrinking from her intent stare.

 

She suddenly turned away, toward the hall.  You jumped when you realized Frisk was standing there—you hadn't even noticed them.  "Can you get me my hand-mirror?  The one on my desk," she requested.

 

As they left you said, "What's going—"

 

"There is something that every person has, every monster, every human.  It is their Soul."  She leaned back and placed a paw on her chest.  With a slow exhale, she moved the paw away as if she was tugging something by a sting, and you gasped when from her chest appeared a white, upside-down heart.  It floated just above the palm of her paw as she met your eyes.

 

"t-tori, are you sure that's...?"  Sans’ voice was low and uncomfortable.

 

"I trust Anaya, and now everyone present has seen my Soul," she dismissed.  She looked back at you.  "Now.  What had you said my color was?"

 

You were too shocked for hesitation.  "Purple."

 

Sans' expression froze as he turned to you and muttered, "how'd...?"

 

Toriel raised her empty paw and summoned a small plume of fire.  As she did, a purple glow overtook the heart, starting from the center and bursting outward.  It faded back to white when the flame was extinguished.  You could only gape as she said, "You were correct."

 

Frisk returned with the mirror as the white heart disappeared into Toriel's chest.  They gave it to her, who gave it to you.  You looked from it to Sans to the Hoepfulls.  They were staring back at you with unreadable faces.  Waiting.

 

"Look at your eyes," Toriel instructed.  "Do you see anything different?"

 

Numbly, you raised the mirror and looked.  It took you a few moments of squinting before you jerked back in surprise.  They were so small and subtle that no one would ever notice at a glance, but like slivers of gold bursting from your pupil, there were flecks of yellow standing out amidst the brown.

 

"The phrase describing the eyes of humans as 'a window to one's soul' is born of truth.  Long ago, when your people had the strength and belief necessary to wield the magic in your souls, the strongest among them bore that magic within their gaze."

 

Slowly, you looked up at Frisk.  Red eyes.  You focused, realizing it took much less concentration than ever before, and were met with that bright scarlet aura.  This time, you were sure you could _see_ the center of it beating in their chest.  You thought you'd imagined it before.

 

Toriel noticed your line of sight.  "Yes, my child is another example of one who is...special.  Tell me Anaya, how long have you had the ability to see the souls of others?"

 

"Always," you whispered.  You were distantly aware of the way Sans was looking at you, the disbelief in his eyes.

 

"This is a common sign early in one's life," she murmured, almost talking to herself at this point.  "I had not realized it was still manifesting in humans to this day, that you had even given it a name, an explanation.  'Synesthesia.'"

 

"How do you know all this?"

 

Toriel glanced briefly at Frisk, who nodded.  "There is another reason for our travelling.  When we emerged, it was quickly apparent that many of the human children of Ebott were similarly gifted, perhaps as a result of growing up above such an abundant source of magic.  Now we are searching to see if the emergence of mages is confined there, or if there are other children in need of our guidance."

 

You tensed at the mention of Ebott.  Your mind was putting all the pieces together as you received them.

 

"I was suspicious when we first met," Toriel admitted, "but the manifestations are far more common in children.  When their powers are not fostered at an early age, they go stale.  I presumed you were such a case.  An adult with perhaps a bit more youth in you, youth that let you see Souls."

 

"why didn't you tell me about this?"  Sans wasn't looking at you, but at Toriel.  His grin was tense.  "about her?"

 

"We are looking for children, Sans," she replied evenly.  "I had heard no cases of magic in adults."

 

"Wait."  Your voice was hoarse and hesitant.  "You're…Charles Xavier-ing kids?"

 

Frisk actually laughed, while Toriel tilted her head in confusion.  "Er...I do not know what that means."

 

"yeah, we are."  Sans was the one to respond.  He was staring down at your hands.  "got a school for them back home."

 

You looked at him blankly as the other part of Toriel's comment processed.  “Magic in adults.”  _Magic_.  They kept throwing that word around like it was easy to accept, easy to understand, and you were the only one left out of the loop.

 

"We are becoming sidetracked."  Toriel leaned forward once more, looking at you and only you.  "Naya, have you noticed any other strange occurrences in your life?  Things you could not explain?  Unlikely coincidences?"

 

Your mouth moved soundlessly as you tried to think, but it was Sans who spoke up first.  "coincidences..." he murmured.  He met your eyes.  "running into each other."

 

"Work," you breathed, coming to the same realization.  "Working in all the same places."

 

"i didn't think about it.  the likeliness.  but in a city this size, the statistics are just...not feasible."

 

Toriel was nodding studiously.  "Yes, this makes sense.  In a time when humans and monsters lived in peace, those with magic would always gravitate to one another and settle in the same areas, as if there was some unconscious draw."  She stared at Sans.  "Perhaps you chose your particular jobs for a reason."

 

His face hardened at that.  Not with anger, but certainly not with happiness.  You felt something in your stomach twist at the sight of him and the way he wasn’t looking at you.

 

"Anaya."  You turned your numb eyes on Toriel.  "Tell me.  What did your Soul look like?  Not just the color.  What did you think when you saw it?"

 

You forced your mind to go back to that moment of shock.  You remembered staring down at it and bracing your hands on either side, not daring to touch it, but understanding something about it.  "I just...knew it was mine," you whispered.  "I knew it came from me."

 

Cautiously, Toriel reached toward you, a question in her eyes.  "May I?"

 

"tori."

 

"It is alright, Sans.  No one will hurt her here."

 

"you can't just ask someone to—"

 

"Humans are not the same as us.  She needs to learn, and we can teach her."

 

You were hugging yourself uncertainly as they glared at each other, but your tension fell to surprise when Frisk walked past their mother to approach you.  They had a calm, kind smile on their face, one hand on their chest, the other held out to you.  You finally took your hand from Sans’ to instead place it in Frisk’s, and watched in confusion as they ducked their head, still wearing that gentle expression.  With a breath, they began to pull their hand away from their chest, just as their mother had, but you were still filled with shock and wonder when a brilliant heart emerged.  It pulsed with warm red light, and when you looked at it, you knew it was Frisk.  As much as their hair or skin or smile, it was part of them.  It identified them.

 

They tilted their head questioningly.  You swallowed, unwrapped your arms from around your chest, and nodded.  Without touching you, they brought their hand close and made a pulling motion.  You shut your eyes nervously until you felt a soft release, nothing like the slamming or bursting you'd felt last night.  You looked down.

 

Glowing and beating before you was that yellow heart.  Before, it had been pulsing rapidly, but now it beat with a slow, steady calmness.  You felt your own heartbeat slow to match it as you watched.  You reached forward and hesitated, only continuing when Frisk gave a reassuring grin.  The yellow and red lights painted your hands as they circled your Soul.  You gasped when you brushed it with one finger—everything around you became sharper for a moment and the pulsing filled your body.  You looked up at Frisk and Toriel and realized you could see the monster's lavender light flaring out from her chest.  She was smiling.  When you turned to Sans, he was staring quietly at your soul, but his pupils flickered away under your gaze.  You couldn't see any color surrounding him.

 

"That glow is proof enough."  As Toriel spoke, yours and Frisk's souls phased back into your chests.  You could no longer see the colors.

 

"Proof of what?" you murmured.

 

She took your hand from Frisk.  You looked at her, your breath quickening, and felt something completely unlike fear or uncertainty.  Something that made your stomach flutter and your mind freeze.  Something like anticipation.

 

"You are a sorcerer, Anaya."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy


	25. Almost Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HO. LY. SHIT. This FUCKING CHAPTER fought me more than any other, I have NEVER had such severe writer's block, I swear to god. I am so sorry for the wait. Jesus.
> 
> Thank you all so so so so much for all the support, the response to last chapter was incredible! :D How are you all so great? Wus yer secret??
> 
>  
> 
> [all these fucking HP jokes i swear to god you guys](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/144422938459/you-fuckers-forced-my-hand)
> 
>  
> 
> [and OH MY GOD CHECK OUT THIS GLORIOUS FART](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/144789420259/tarableart-ive-been-reading-an-undertale-fic)

Your head was spinning by the time you were walking back into Sans’ apartment.

 

Toriel had filled you in on all the information she could give before you requested a break.  You couldn’t deny you were as curious as you were shocked at the development, but you were just so exhausted.  It felt like your mind was trying to shut down and process all this newness at its own pace.

 

She’d told you how human magic didn’t suffer the same limitations as monster magic.  She’d known of humans who could wield weaker versions of any form of monster powers, while monsters were generally restricted to one specialty—fire magic, projectile magic, gravity magic.  The latter was the “blue” magic Sans had sensed and was, apparently, very rare. 

 

She’d told you that human magic was closely tied to the user’s physical being.  Using too much would quickly exhaust a sorcerer.  She warned you to be careful, and hold off on trying anything until she figured out your limits.

 

She’d told you she would help you.  She would teach you.  She would answer any questions you had, keep you safe, and foster this newfound side of yourself until you understood it completely.

 

You hadn’t said much.

 

Now, as you went into Sans’ room to retrieve your jacket, you tried to think how to answer the question you knew he’d ask.  You could feel his eyes on you from the doorway, watching as you shrugged into your jacket and checked the pockets for your wallet and keys.  You could feel the uncertainty in the air.

 

“so, uh.”  His voice was low and hesitant.  “you ok?”

 

Were you?

 

“Um.  Well I’m not…freaking out.  Maybe I should be, but…yeah.”  You turned and started toward the door; he stepped out of your way.  Neither of you were making eye contact.  “Just, uh…hoo.  Yeah.  Gotta give myself some time to…”

 

“…yeah.”

 

You glanced at him.  You were both at his front door.  You weren’t sure if you should be leaving with or without him, or should you be staying?  You wanted to reach for his hands, but they were shoved into his hoodie, and you still had no idea how he was taking this or what his expression meant.  All through your revelation with Toriel, he’d been withdrawn.  Sitting stiff and quiet and separate, he hadn’t asked questions like her, hadn’t shown any of the Hoepfulls’ excitement or fascination.  You couldn’t tell if he was worried, or upset, or just in shock, and you didn’t know how to make him _react_.

 

“Guess I’ll head out,” you murmured, tugging your hair.  “Stew on some things.”

 

“do you, uh, want a lift home?”

 

You gave him a confused look.  “Doesn’t Papyrus have the car?”

 

“no, i mean…”  He still seemed guarded as he shrugged and attempted a smile.  “like last night.  instead of walking we could, uh, take a shortcut.”

 

You blinked as you suddenly remembered.  You’d walked through one door and come out another, in a place that was almost a mile away.  _Right.  He can teleport or whatever.  Just toss that on the pile of “magical mysteries.”_

 

When you didn’t reply he said, “or we can walk.  it’s cool.  just figured you might still be tired.”

 

“We can, uh.  We can take a shortcut.  That’s…”  You shrugged helplessly.  “I mean, I’m gonna have to get used to that stuff, right?”

 

Finally, a flash of something soft crossed his face.  That was a good sign.  He chuckled and reached around you to open the door, gesturing you through it and saying, “after you.”

 

You could see the breezeway, as clear and normal as anything, but as soon as you stepped out, you had to close your eyes against a weird, sudden fuzziness, and then open them to see the inside of your apartment.  “ _Jesus_ ,” you hissed, your whole body lurching slightly in surprise.

 

“sorry.”  Sans was standing beside you.  “it’s smoother when you’re not expecting it.”

 

Your eyes flitted over your front door—nothing different.  No portal back into his apartment, no rift in space-time, no sign of magic anywhere.  “Jesus,” you repeated.  “Do you…how does…are you just, like, changing doorways?  Is this like a Narnia wardrobe situation or…?”

 

He couldn’t help looking a bit amused at your confusion.  “nah.  it’s like…blinking?  but taking someone with me is messy if you’re not used to it.  going through a door or around a corner or whatever just makes it easier.”

 

“Shit.”  You looked around the room, as if to make sure you were really there.  Your eyes soon fell back on him.  Images of his flashing eye reflexively came to mind, and you swallowed.  “This stuff is real.”

 

“yes.  it is.”  His faint smile faltered.  He took a step forward, looking at you, _really_ looking.  His pupils flickered to your chest and he muttered, “are you sure you’re ok?”

 

You put a hand over your heart.  No, over your…god, your soul.  You furrowed your brow and sighed, allowing yourself to slouch a bit.  What could you say to that?  How could you reassure him when you didn’t even know yourself?  You knew you were tired.  You were possibly in shock.  But the more you searched your mind for an honest answer to his question, the more you realized and accepted something.

 

“Look.  I don’t get any of this stuff, not yet, but…I feel…better.  I do.  Not quite…y’know, not _great_ , but definitely better.”  Through some combination of the pie and your friends and the sight of yellow light pouring over your hands, it was becoming true.  You lifted your eyes to his and set your mouth in a firm line.  “I think giving it a name helps.  ‘Magic,’ or whatever.  And Toriel knows what to do with me.  Even if I don’t understand it at all, someone does.  And I’m not…alone in this.  I’ve got her and Frisk and, um.  And you.  Like last night, I…I really couldn’t believe you were…I didn’t think anyone would help me but _you_ did, somehow, and I was so…I was s-scared, and—”

 

His face cracked, and his hands immediately came from his pockets to clasp yours.  You were glad he didn’t come closer than that.  Your eyes were stinging and your throat was tightening and you knew that you were dangerously close to tears; any closer and they would fall.  But you were too tired for that.  You weren’t ready to break in front of him.  You were scared to admit it, but talking and fretting about all this magic business was just easier than addressing what else had happened.  You weren’t ready to tell him who you’d seen in place of Cody.  Not yet.

 

“It’s ok.  I really feel better.”  You managed to keep your voice steady, squeezing his hands as his eyes searched you.  Biting worry cut through his guarded expression, furrowed his brow, and turned down the corners of his mouth.  “I just need a little time, I think.”

 

“…ok.”  His voice was rough.  His fingers were tensed, as if they wanted to grip you tighter, but after a moment they fell away.

 

You felt the emotion subside at the loss of contact.  You let out a breath and forced a small smile.  You wanted to ask him the same thing— _Are you ok?_ —but you couldn’t get the words out.  So instead you said, “I’ll text you.”

 

“ok.”

 

“And I’ll let you know soon as I’m ready to learn more about…”  You gestured vaguely around your chest.  “Y’know.”

 

“yeah, ok.”

 

His guard was back by the time he was waving goodbye.  You shut the door after him, but out of curiosity you opened it a few moments after, just to check.  Sure enough, he’d disappeared.

 

You spent the rest of the day trying to distract yourself and failing spectacularly.  You just wanted to give your mind a break and a chance to let everything sink in, but your thoughts were too cluttered.  You couldn’t stop remembering.  You kept seeing Cody’s body being flung around like a doll.  You saw Sans’ eye burning and flaring and his grin stretching between his cheeks.  You kept feeling your chest burst.  If you were ever too quiet, you could swear you felt an echo of that hard, insistent pounding.

 

Finally, when you were lying in bed staring restlessly at the ceiling, you put a hand over your ribs.  You flexed your fingers there, frowning and recalling the way Frisk and Toriel had pulled that heart out of you.  How had they done it?  How had they made it come so gently, so easily?

 

You let your mind dwell on your soul.  You remembered the way it had looked last night.  New and bright and strange, but definitely yours.  You’d recognized it because you knew your own color; you’d known it all your life.  Every time you cared to think about it, you could feel it.  See it, almost.  Ever since you were a child, you’d look in a mirror or down at your chest or sometimes you’d close your eyes, and every time, you just felt yellow.  It was so much a part of you that you didn’t even think about it anymore.  There was nothing novel or shocking about the color.

 

But you hadn’t known it was _real_.

 

You closed your eyes.  Letting out a slow breath, you pulled your hand away with the same motion Toriel and Frisk had used.  You imagined there was a string connecting your fingers and your soul and you pulled.  Nothing.  You tried again, scrunching your brow in concentration.  You pictured that yellow heart and kept its image in the front of your mind, but still nothing.  You tried a few more times before groaning and opening your eyes.  Your whole body slumped into the bed, relaxing in frustration and resignation.

 

The moment you relaxed, you could feel it.  A soft beating, resonating in the quiet darkness of your room.  You went perfectly still; ridiculously, you were afraid any movement would scare it off, like it was a small, timid animal.  You closed your eyes again and visualized it.  Like all those times throughout your childhood, you let yourself feel your color.  Yellow like wheat, or bumblebees, or the hair of your first crush.  You focused.

 

Soon you couldn’t feel the beating anymore.  You opened your eyes to see the heart balanced just above your chest, casting its glow over your sheets.  You let out a breath and cupped your hands around it and tried to draw it closer, once again feeling that sudden sharpness and pulsing as you made contact.  The heart moved for a moment, then there was some give, and then your hands phased completely through.  You gasped when you felt like something had just washed through you, pushed you.

 

You didn’t try touching it again.  You stared at it for several moments, your thoughts finally slowing down.  Seeing it here, by yourself, was different.  More intimate, more personal, and somehow easier to accept.  This was part of you, clear as day.  You’d always had it in your chest, hiding and waiting.

 

The only difference was now you could see it.

 

* * *

 

 

Perhaps the strangest part of everything happening in your life was the lack of change.

 

You still had to go to work on Monday.  You didn’t look any different, didn’t act any different, and nobody treated you any different.  It was unnerving in a way, knowing there was this strange, invisible secret that nobody else could see.

 

You were as busy as ever, working extra shifts and being forced to act like everything was normal.  Lunches at the elementary school saw Toriel doing her best not to be over-eager, but you could see just how badly she wanted to pry, to learn, and to teach you about your powers.  Luckily, Frisk was always there to deflect her and keep the conversation on more familiar subjects, like music and ASL lessons.  The teen seemed to understand better than anyone that you were still feeling a bit overwhelmed.

 

Sans was so busy with the haunt that you never saw him.  You’d text, but not nearly as frequently as before, and everything he said came with a sort of…distance.  His replies weren’t as quick, his jokes weren’t as natural, and no matter how much you reassured yourself that he was just busy, he wasn’t upset, he wasn’t avoiding you, you couldn’t help but worry.  You remembered the guard he’d put up when you’d last seen him.  You feared he was putting up walls you were all too familiar with.

 

Despite the tense oddness of your days, your nights were getting calmer and calmer.  Every night before falling asleep you’d close your eyes, relax, and summon that pulsing heart from your chest.  You were acclimating yourself to the sight of it.  It was the only exercise in magic you were allowing yourself, and it was getting easy; comforting, even. You’d watch it as you drifted off, memorized its shape, its shade, the almost indiscernible tendrils of light that peeled away from it at the force of your breath, and you’d think.  You’d think about magic; what it meant to you; what you were expecting; and what it really was.  You’d think about seeing the ghost of Rachel’s smile plastered across Cody’s face.  You’d think about blue magic and burning eyes.  You’d think about Sans.  You’d think about grabbing your phone and texting him and finding out exactly what was wrong, but you didn’t. 

 

You just kept thinking.

 

When you finally had a free evening, you felt steady enough to spend some time with the Hoepfulls.  “No lessons still,” you’d told Toriel apologetically, “but it’d be nice to just…y’know…hang out.”

 

She’d agreed (albeit with a slight tang of impatience), and now you found yourself sitting on the couch in the skeleton brother’s apartment, wedged between Toriel and Frisk.

 

 **No TV at our place,** Frisk signed, slowly enough for you to understand.

 

“Ah.  Right.”  You had to admit, it was a bit awkward.  Sans wasn’t home and Papyrus was busy making dinner in the kitchen, despite Toriel’s offer to cater the evening.  You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your fingers into the cushions and remembering the last time you’d sat here.  The memories were tinged with unhappiness as you reminded yourself that Sans wasn’t here, he wouldn’t be joining you, and no, no, he was definitely _not_ avoiding you.

 

“Frisk has found a film that is all about human wizards!  They believe it will help you in your—”  Toriel stopped herself, noticing the tension in your face.  “Your, er.  Your…future studies?”

 

You gave her a weak smile as Frisk nodded enthusiastically, but your discomfort turned to a snort of amusement when _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone_ started playing.  You shook your head at the teen in tired disapproval, trying not to smile.  They just shrugged and grinned mischievously.

 

Unfortunately, Harry hadn’t even let the snake out of the reptile house before Papyrus suddenly burst into the living room, forcing one arm through a jacket and looking frantic.

 

Toriel paused the movie and frowned in concern.  “Is something wrong, dear?”

 

“SANS IS IN TROUBLE!”

 

Your blood chilled as Toriel gasped, “Goodness, what happened?  Where is he?”

 

Papyrus was awkwardly tugging on his shoes with one hand while holding his phone in the other.  “HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME BY NOW SO I TEXTED ASKING WHERE HE WAS, AND HE SAID HE HAD TO GO TO A DOCTOR!!”

 

Frisk signed something, looking more confused than worried.

 

“I DON’T KNOW WHY HE WOULD GO TO A HUMAN DOCTOR!!”  The skeleton looked close to tears as he tried to get his other arm through the sleeve.  He held the phone out to the three of you and cried, “SEE FOR YOURSELVES!!”

 

***DEAREST BROTHER:  THE DINNER I AM LOVINGLY CRAFTING WILL BE FINISHED SOON, BUT YOU STILL HAVEN’T RETURNED FROM WORK!!  WHERE ARE YOU??**

***sorry bro.  dont wait up.  im @ the break up clinic.  might be l8.**

Your concern immediately collapsed into understanding.  Holding back a sigh of relief, you stood and put a hand on Papyrus’ arm, saying, “It’s ok, Pap.  I know where he is.”

 

His eye sockets were wide and wet as he replied, “OH THANK GOODNESS, WE CAN GO RESCUE HIM TOGETHER!!”

 

“Ah, uh, no.  That’s not gonna be necessary.  It’s not a real clinic, it’s a, uh…”  You were starting to feel a different kind of worry at the thought of Sans staying out late to visit a bar, and judging from Papyrus’ reaction, this wasn’t a normal occurrence.  With a glance toward Frisk and Toriel’s anxious faces, you offered, “Listen, you stay here and finish dinner.  I’ll go get him.  Trust me, he’s not hurt,” you added before he could interject.

 

“WELL…IF YOU’RE SURE, HUMAN,” Papyrus hesitantly conceded.

 

You gave the three of them a few more reassurances before leaving.  You still remembered how to get there, though the walk was much chillier now.  You nestled into your jacket and thought of the first night you’d hung out, when you’d strolled into that pub and laughed about your unconventional “drinking habits.”  Now every step made the jumble of dread, anxiety, and uncertainty twist in your chest.  You hadn’t seen him since, well, _everything_ , and he’d been acting so distant.  How would he react to you showing up out of the blue?

 

“The Break-Up Clinic” was seedier than you remembered.  You felt a twinge of discomfort at the sight of some rougher clientele, but fortunately it was pretty empty.  It didn’t take long to spot Sans.

 

He was sitting at the bar with a half-empty glass of beer between his hands, looking down at nothing.  Your heart sunk.  He didn’t notice your approach until you were right behind him.  A brief flash of surprise crossed his face when he turned to you, but it quickly fell into a chagrinned, tired wince.  You didn’t know what to say.

 

“Thought you didn’t drink.”

 

His expression wilted even more. He let out a dry laugh and pulled out a stool for you.  “not usually.”

 

You sat.  There was a moment of uncertain silence between you, with you looking down at your hands in your lap and Sans pushing his drink away.

 

“doesn’t taste the same up here.”

 

“Better or worse?”

 

“worse,” he snorted.

 

You hesitated before putting out your hand and giving him a questioning look.  He raised one brow, but slid the glass toward you.  You took a quick swallow before you could think better of it, immediately coughing and scowling at the taste.

 

“Yup,” you muttered.  “That’s about as bad I remember.”

 

He chuckled and took the drink back, but there was little humor in the motion.  At this distance you could see the dark grooves under his eye-sockets and the lines around his mouth.  He looked so tired.

 

“So…Pap’s worried about you.”

 

His face sharpened a bit.  “aw man, really?”

 

“He thinks you’re at an actual clinic.”  You forced a small, wry smile.  “Maybe the name was a little misleading?  You could’ve just said ‘bar.’”

 

“didn’t want him to think…heh.”  He fingered the bottom of his glass absently.  “y’know.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

What were you supposed to say to him?  Should you bring up the drinking?  The distance?  Ask him to come home and eat spaghetti and watch movies like normal?  Were you supposed to pretend that nothing had changed?  He was so clearly unhappy, and you’d been trying to figure out why without really facing your fears, but those fears were there.  They were climbing up your throat.

 

“Are you mad at me?”

 

Your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but he flinched as if you’d shouted at him.  “what?  no, no i’m not—”

 

“Is it because of my…the soul thing?”

 

“naya, god i’m not…shit.”  He looked slightly panicked, turned fully toward you and searching your face.

 

“Then why are you avoiding me?”  There it was.  You words weren’t demanding or angry or overly emotional, just quiet.  If anything, saying them was a relief.

 

Now _he_ looked like he didn’t know what to say.  His jaw worked a bit, then his face fell, his body slumped, and he sighed, “sorry.”

 

“It’s fine, just…are you ok?”

 

“ _me?_ ”

 

You’d been wanting to ask him that all week, and now he was looking at you like you were crazy.  “Yeah.  I mean, I’m…y’know.  We haven’t really talked about it, I guess.  Just you and me.  And I want to know you’re ok.”

 

He was slowly shaking his head.  “you shouldn’t be worried about me.  you’re the one who…”

 

“But I _am_ worried about you.  Of course I am.”  Your voice finally let slip of touch of frustration.  You forced yourself to meet his eyes as yours started to water.  “Sans, you’re my _best friend_.”

 

For a moment he froze, but before you could react, he was leaning forward and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.  His breath rasped by your ear as he muttered, “fuck, i’m the worst.  i’m sorry.  i’m…” 

 

You were too surprised to say anything back.  You watched him quietly as he pulled away, letting his hands fall along your arms until they were holding yours.  He squeezed your palms and looked all at once bitter and ashamed.

 

“alright.  ok.  maybe we should talk.”

 

Hand in hand, you left the pub.  The sun was almost done setting, the view obscured by buildings and clouds clinging to the horizon.  You pulled your jacket a bit tighter around you against the cool evening breeze.  For several quiet moments, you walked aimlessly down the street.  You were waiting on him.

 

“so…there was a big chunk of my life when i didn’t really have control.”  His voice was low and careful.  You kept your hand in his as silent encouragement.  “everything felt like it was predetermined.  my life was in someone else’s hands, controlled by someone else’s magic.  i felt…powerless.  for a long time.

 

“things changed once we got up here.  i felt like maybe i finally got that control back, at least a little.  i was seeing so many new people and places.  i was making this new life.  so when tori told you we met because of _magic_ , i…”  His head tilted further down, as if he was bracing himself to continue.  “that shook me.  i’d just thought…i thought we met, talked, became friends because…because _i_ found you.”

 

You felt your soul give a hard thump.  You looked at him in time to meet his pupils as they flitted toward you, his bones tinted blue.

 

“i thought that was something i did.  that i was just lucky to have found this…person, who didn’t look at me like i’m not a person too, who didn’t care about how i look, and…heh.  i just wasn’t ready to hear that i was wrong.  that i met you cuz of more magic fate bullshit.  i dealt with enough of that when…”

 

He came to a stop.  You knew that look on his face, the weight of old, hard secrets on his shoulders.  “You don’t have to talk about it,” you murmured, echoing what he’d already told you many times.  “Trust me.  I get it.”

 

He seemed to think for a moment before giving a shallow nod.  “’m sorry.  i’ll, uh, tell you more eventually.  i know you deserve an explanation for all my shit…”

 

He sounded so much like you.  You watched him as a car passed, the headlights completely illuminating his face and the sadness in his smile and the crease of his brow.  He’d never been like this around you, vulnerable and painfully honest, and you were suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of wanting to understand him.  You wanted to understand everything—his past, his unhappiness, his magic, your magic—but more than that, you wanted him to understand _you_.  You looked down at your joined hands and needed him to know what _this_ meant to you.

 

You started walking again, toward a bridge curving over the street.  You didn’t say anything until you were at a bench in its center, facing a gap in the buildings that allowed a view of the spot of brighter sky where the sun used to be.  You both sat, still holding hands, and Sans looked at you uncertainly.  You wondered if he could sense the words that you were preparing yourself to say.

 

“Look,” you started softly.  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this last week.  Obviously.  Cuz this is all really, _really_ new, but not just the magic stuff.  Well, kind of the magic stuff.  But before that.  Before you…y’know, rescued me.”

 

Sans tensed, his hand tightening on yours.

 

“When Cody grabbed my wrist, he wasn’t really the reason I freaked out.  I was scared, sure, but my, uh, _soul_ came out when I thought I saw…um.  My ex.  Like, my mind tricked me, y’know?”  You were shaking as you looked at him.  “So I’ve been wondering if…can I…is it ok if I talk about her?”

 

Throughout your private moments with your soul, this was the conclusion you’d come to.  This was the root of everything.  This is what you wanted him to understand, why you were afraid, why you cared so much about how he was changing your life, but as much as you’d forced yourself to face it and acknowledge that yes, you wanted him to know, you were terrified.  This was a story you’d never said out loud.

 

Now both his hands were clasping you.  His eyes were serious and sad and somehow so, so gentle all at once, and he nodded.  “of course it is.”

 

You took a breath, looked out over the dimming horizon, and for the first time in your life, you said everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go.


	26. Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: This chapter depicts flashbacks of an abusive relationship. Any violence is not explicit, but please read at your own discretion.**

You were eighteen, almost finished with your first semester at university.  Your hair was shorter and your clothes were younger and you'd never had a relationship, just a kiss or cuddle here or there.  You were majoring in Elementary Education and minoring in Music Theory, and you really believed that was where your life was going.  So any time you'd have a break from studying or hanging out with your friends, you'd go and play guitar at the various coffee shops and cafes around campus, singing requests for tips.

 

It was during one of your background-music performances that she first acknowledged you.  Any time someone dropped a few bills in your guitar case, you'd give them a little smile in the midst of your song, but she was different.  She strolled toward you with all the easy confidence of a lioness.  She bent low and slow as she tipped you twenty dollars.  The notes stuttered at the way her hair fell around her shirt's dipping neckline, the slight curl in her lips, and when she looked at you through thick, dark lashes and said, "You sound beautiful," you had to stop singing to swallow.  Your voice was much shakier when you resumed, your eyes fixed on her back as she returned to her table.

 

Rachel Rodriguez was your Introductory Physics professor.  Thirty-three years old, professional, successful, and you had a crush on her.  Everyone did.  It was impossible not to be allured by her wide, soft curves and rasping voice.  You'd spent plenty of lectures getting distracted when she'd push her long brown curls behind one shoulder, or when she'd laugh and shake her head at a student's joke, or when her dark eyes would occasionally intersect with yours.  It was such a huge class, one of those multi-leveled lecture halls, so you thought you were imagining it any time her gaze seemed to linger on you.

 

After the coffee-shop encounter, her looks became less subtle.  She said your name more in class, "Anaya, would you turn down the lights for me?" and "Perfect question, Anaya, I was just about to address it."  When you'd pass her desk at the end of each period, her smile would widen.  Her eyes would flit up over her glasses as she looked down at the scattered tests and assignments and land on you, your body or your face or your eyes.  You were sure this was just your fanciful mind, positive that you weren't special, until one day when you were handing over your homework, she slid you a slip of paper.  Her number.  Not the one she gave to students as a professional contact, but her personal phone.  That night, after a few hours of self-preparation, you called it.

 

She gave you a time and a place, and that first date was more surreal than anything.  You couldn't believe that she was really there, smiling at you, talking to you, wearing a simple black dress that showed just enough skin and perfectly matched her long, manicured black nails.  You felt like such a young idiot when you complimented her, told her that you liked her nails, but she just laughed.  A laugh that was sexual and deep and sent a rush through the bottom of your gut.

 

You went home with her that very night.  Everything was so fast, faster and more than anything you'd ever experienced.  She was exciting, hot, and even as you realized you were in over your head, you couldn't get enough.  You were drowning in her.  You didn't care.  She thought you were beautiful and enticing, as impossible as that was.  She was so, so much.

 

You already belonged to her.

 

* * *

 

 

The first month was much like the first night.  Fast and sensual and secret.  After a week, she asked you to be her girlfriend, and you said yes.  Another week and she asked you to move in with her.  You said yes.  You would have said yes to anything.  Everything about her excited you, from her careful control during classes that gave you only the briefest glimpses at her true affections, to the way she insisted on using your full name, saying, "It sounds so much more graceful.  It sounds like your singing."

 

You had little fear for the morality of it all, but you were sure not to tell anyone save for a few close friends, who shared your romantic, carefree enthusiasm.  There was no one to warn you of what it could do to your academic career, her professional career, or your lives in general.  You were just hers, and you were just happy.  For the first time, you felt cherished and lovely.  Everyone commented on how good you were looking lately, how you laughed more readily, how you seemed more confident than ever.

 

You didn't care how fast it was.  You were in love.

 

Too in love to notice the changes.

 

* * *

 

 

You were both going out after several weeks of blind romance.  You came from the bathroom in a short skirt and playful blouse, grinning and saying, "Ready to go?"

 

She laughed and raised a brow at your outfit.  "Are you wearing that?"

 

"Why?  Does it not look good?" you pouted.

 

"Of course it does."  She strode forward and pulled you toward her by your hips, bringing her face tantalizingly close.  "You _always_ look wonderful.  But don't you think it's a little young?"

 

You hummed, leaning into her curves, automatically agreeing.

 

"Here."  She started to pull up the hem of your shirt, giving you a sly smile.  "You can borrow one of my dresses."

 

After that, she started buying you clothes.  You were flattered and embarrassed and happy at the gifts, even if they weren't always what you would've chosen for yourself.  Any time you'd come out in something she hadn't gotten you, she'd raise a brow, and you'd give a chagrinned laugh and go change.  She praised you so highly when you wore those clothes, she'd touch you so suggestively, she'd make you believe so, so firmly that you looked beautiful.  You wanted nothing more than her approval.

 

You didn't know when her preferences on your wardrobe went from playful to stern.  You didn't think much of it when you came home and all your old clothes were gone.  You only cared that she was there, and she loved you, and she was gorgeous and you were hers.  Nothing else mattered.

 

* * *

 

 

"But I already made plans with my friends."

 

"You can reschedule, can't you?"  Rachel was sitting at the kitchen island grading papers, regarding you over her glasses.

 

"Well I mean, yeah, I can, but—"

 

"Then what's the problem?"  She looked back down with a finality that said there would be no arguing.  "Everyone will want to meet you tonight, they specifically asked me to bring you."

 

Not for the first time, you frowned with nervousness.  "But...shouldn't we be careful?  What if, y'know, it gets back to your coworkers, or..."

 

"None of my coworkers will be at dinner.  Besides, you finished my class.  Passed with flying colors, in fact."  She gave you a suggestive look at that.  You couldn't help but melt a little.

 

You went to a party with her and her friends.  Everyone was older, professional, established.  They regarded you with polite greetings and questions, putting a glass of wine in your hand without asking if you wanted it.  You gave Rachel a questioning look; she gave a pointed sip of her own glass; and so you drank.  You tried not to feel uncomfortable at the way her friends spoke _about_ you but not _to_ you, despite the fact that you were always at Rachel's side.  They kept calling you "adorable."  One man grinned and hugged you and gave her a scolding look and said, "You need to quit snatching up all the pretty girls, Rach, leave some for the rest of us!"

 

And starting then, you didn't see much of your own friends.  It was always her friends, her plans, or her decision whether or not you could go out.  You told yourself you didn't mind.  She just wanted to spend time with you.  You wanted to spend time with her.  This wasn't abnormal for couples.

 

* * *

 

 

Rachel never really confided in you, at least not about things that she thought "didn't concern you."  So when she started acting withdrawn, distant, and quiet about three months into your relationship, you had no way of knowing why.  You'd try and ask what was wrong, but she would brush you off.  You'd beg for her to just say something, talk to you, only to get deflected and distracted.

 

You loved her so much.  You were so worried.  One night, when she tried to kiss you and lead you to bed, you had to stop her.  You had to ask, "Please, Rachel.  Don't keep me in the dark.  Whatever's going on, I can help you.  I want to."

 

Her response was silence.  She let you go.  She sighed, wouldn't look at you, and walked calmly to the bedroom, not bothering to see if you'd follow.  You watched her in confusion for a few moments before accepting that she really was just ignoring you.  She wouldn't return to talk.  When you did go to your room, she was already asleep in bed.  She hadn't waited for you.  All you could do was climb in next to her and tell yourself that this would blow over.  She was just going through something personal right now, and soon she would be back to normal.

 

* * *

 

 

She didn't go back to normal.

 

She would stay out late without telling you where she was.  She expected you to be waiting for her when she got home.  She didn't care if you were tired or studying; when she wanted you to be with her, you had to be with her.  You still believed her insistence was affectionate, that her control was just out of love.

 

One night, she was out so long that you couldn't wait on her anymore.  You went to bed, and at two in the morning she woke you up by slamming the front door.  You barely had time to sit up before she was storming into the bedroom, agitated, silent.  She ignored you while you approached her, asked her what was wrong, what had happened, what could you do.  She acted like you weren't there until you cried, "Rachel, please, I'm begging you, just _talk_ to me!"

 

Then she spun on you.  She grabbed your wrists and fixed you with a blank, hard stare.  She asked if you loved her.  You said, "O-of course I do, what're—"

 

She cut you off with a kiss and pushed you toward the bed.  You tried to pull away.  You didn't want this.  You wanted to talk, you wanted to understand, but she had you by your wrists and she wasn't letting go.  You told her no.  You pleaded.  Your back was on the bed, pressing against you, pressing you down, trapping you, and...

 

* * *

 

 

You stopped.

 

Sans' face was frozen in horror, the lights of his pupils long gone.  His hands were still in yours, and toward the end of your story they'd started to shake.

 

"And she..."  Your voice was small, cracking.  You weren't crying, and surprisingly, you weren't panicking.  But this was hard.  This was something you'd never really said, even back then, even when it was all fresh.  "She, um.  She held me down, and...that was it.

 

"When I woke up the next morning, I knew what'd happened.  Like, I wasn't disillusioned or anything and I didn't try to rationalize it, I just knew.  And I knew I'd have to say something about it.  I went into the kitchen and she was just chopping up fruit, looking normal, like nothing was wrong.  I started to talk and she just...denied everything.  Said I was being immature.  So I told her I had to leave for a little while, just to think, and she...she got angry."

 

You pushed your hair back and felt the scar on your forehead.  "She gave me this.  She just...spun around, she was still holding a knife, and she cut me.  It was out of nowhere.  I didn't even know she could be violent like that.  I was shocked, and she looked shocked, too, and she stormed out.  Left the house.  I didn't know what else to do, so I just put a bandage on and went to class.  When I came back, my stuff was packed in the front yard, and all the locks were changed.  The message was pretty clear.

 

"I had to live with my parents for a little.  I didn't talk about it at first.  I didn't really want to come clean about the fact that I'd been dating a woman, let alone a professor.  But when I finally did tell them, and told them I'd been...that she'd..."  You still couldn't bring yourself to say the word.  "They didn't believe me.  I tried telling other people, friends and stuff, but they either didn't believe it or came at me with the whole 'I knew it' thing.  So all that basically taught me 'Oh, ok, well then I'll just never talk about this again.'"

 

His hands tightened.  You smiled a bit, but couldn't look at his face.  You were worried you'd lose your nerve.

 

"Then I started having nightmares.  I'd just go back to that night every time I slept.  It got so bad that my parents couldn't be around me, said I was unmanageable, so I left.  Crashed on a friend's couch.  For some reason, as soon as I was sleeping at a new place, the nightmares stopped.  At least for a little.  When they started up again, I went somewhere else, and I just sort of...never stopped doing that."

 

You fell quiet, momentarily out of things to say.  He hadn't interrupted throughout your story, but now his voice came out in a ragged growl, "where is she now."

 

You sighed and shook your head.  "I don't know, she could still be at the university, but—"

 

"no.  where does she live."

 

You suddenly looked at him.  His eyes were still dark, but now he was grinning wide, shaking with hatred.  You didn't flinch away when you felt a crackle in the hand holding yours, didn't fear the ring of blue that was flickering into existence in his left eye socket.  For just a moment, you opened yourself up to that power.  You allowed yourself to remember the sight of him standing by that curtain, painted red and blue, tossing a man's body around like it was nothing.  You recalled all that old anger, all the times you'd resented and cursed your own life and wondered why, why had she done this to you.  You had the brief, bitter urge to tell him where to find her.  To unleash him.

 

But the feeling was gone in an instant.  Reflexively, you raised one hand to cup his cheek.  He softened, his cyan eye dimming while his grin fell a fraction. 

 

"Hey," you said softly.  "Listen.  I was...I was mad, too.  I still am.  But that's just...another way she's been controlling me.  And I want to pretend that I hate her, and I didn’t really fall for her so hard, but…I did.  I can’t take that back.  I can’t take back that I loved her, and she hurt me in spite of that.  So don't...just...look at me."

 

He did.  The white dots in his eyes slowly returned, his face fell into something sorrowful, and he turned fully toward you.

 

"Things have been weird this past week.  Everything's different.  But like, in general?  I haven't been this happy in a really long time."

 

His eyes widened, and the anger evaporated even more.

 

"But I wanted to tell you all this so...so maybe you'd understand a little better."  You looked down at your hands.  You rubbed the back of his with your thumb.  "Why I'm kind of...y'know.  Fucked up."

 

"no," he murmured with a quiet firmness.  "you're not.  naya, you're...you're too good for me.  I don't know how anyone...how any _demon_ like her could..."

 

You watched him as he hunched forward a bit, closer to you, and when he didn't continue you whispered,  "I just wanted you to get why I'm...scared."

 

"of what?"  His voice was just as quiet.

 

You hesitated, then took a breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder.  You'd already said so much, yet there were still some words that were giving you trouble.  "Um...of this?" you tried meekly.

 

He froze for a moment, then responded, "oh."

 

"I'm sorry I'm slow."

 

His hand rose to wrap around your shoulder.  "it's ok."

 

"And I'm sorry if...if this is coming out of left field, or..."

 

"no, i..."  Both his arms were around you, holding you against him, rubbing your back.  "i'm sorry, too.  i'm slow.  i'm stupid.  i didn't think you'd ever wanna..."

 

You pulled back a bit to look at his face.  Blue and soft.  You were so afraid he’d look at you differently, like you were damaged or delicate, but there was no pity in his eyes.  There was just kindness, a lingering bit of anger on your behalf, and…affection.  There was no mistaking it.  You were disbelieving, but at the same time, deep down, you'd known.  You'd been reading his smiles and motions and the way he was always holding your hand, and you'd hoped and known, and now he was just a few words away from it.

 

“Sans,” you muttered, “I would never, ever want to control you.  With my magic, or whatever.  I know what it’s like.  But…but if magic had anything to do with me meeting you, or if we wouldn’t have met otherwise, then…”  After everything you said, after every painful memory you revisited, this was the point when you started to tear up.  You dropped your head and whispered, “Then I’m really grateful, y’know?”

 

You felt his hand slide to the back of your neck, his fingers in your hair and his thumb on your cheek.  “naya, i—”

 

Your phone suddenly rang, blaring _Spooky Scary Skeletons_ at top volume.

 

You jumped, cursed, and fumbled in your pocket.  Sans went from tender to trying not to laugh in an instant.  “is that…?” he snickered.

 

“I-it’s not just for—I mean, ok, that’s my ringtone for _everyone_ , I promise I’m not being—f-fuck, where is—ok, h-hello?” you answered, flushed with embarrassment.

 

"NAYA!  DID YOU FIND HIM?  WAS HE TERRIBLY INJURED??"

 

Oh, right.  You'd told Papyrus you'd bring Sans back.

 

"Y-yeah, found him!" you squeaked.  "Sorry, we just got a little...sidetracked?"

 

"I SHOULD SAY SO.  YOU'VE BEEN OUT FOR OVER AN HOUR!!"

 

You winced.  "Sorry, Pap.  I'll...I'll bring him home now, don't worry."

 

You hung up and looked at Sans to see an amused smile threatening his face.

 

"Whoops," you said.  "Guess we should head back, or...h-ha."  You'd been so caught up in the moment, but that interruption had brought your familiar shyness rushing back.

 

"yeah.  wouldn't want him losing his _skull_ , would we?"

 

You snorted, blushing up at his smile.  Neither of you were moving to get up.  Your faces were close, and the air was filled with anticipation, but you were the one to crack and pull away, clearing your throat.  "Well I guess let's, um...y'know.  Th-this way."

 

He rose and took your hand.  You both left the bridge behind and started walking back the way you'd come in comfortable silence, interrupted only by Sans occasionally teasing you about your taste in ringtones.  You giggled along with him and were astounded at the fact that somehow, this soon after you’d revealed everything, he was still making you laugh.  The route brought you past your apartment, and seeing it made you realize that your conversation had exhausted you.

 

"Hey, I know Pap was making dinner but I'm...pretty tired, actually?"

 

He smiled sympathetically.  "i bet."

 

You were still quiet as he took you up the stairs to your door.  You let go of him to unlock it, and when you turned around to say goodnight, he was reaching for you once again.  He was wrapping you up in a hug and holding you tighter than you'd ever dared to hold him.  You returned it, closing your eyes and falling against him and letting affection wash through you.  For just a moment, you didn't care about the life that had ruined you years ago.  You just cared that he knew, that he was here, and that he was holding you.

 

It was several breaths before he let you go.  You were red and lightheaded, and you had to force yourself to meet his bright, dilated pupils.  He was still holding your hands as he murmured, "naya?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"i'm ready.  whenever you want me.  just...want you know that, ok?"

 

That was good enough for you.  You squeezed his hands, smiled, and whispered back, "Ok."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And. There. It. Is.
> 
> From the beginning this has been hard for me to conceptualize, since I had to take romantic tropes that I'm typically a huge fan of (age differences, teacherxstudent) and portray how unhealthy they can be. With both Cody and Rachel, I tried to write them as characters that, if put in a different context, could be attractive. Cody is suave and confident--the tricks he tried to pull on Naya have worked for him plenty of times before. We've all seen plenty of rom-coms with protagonists who behave similarly. Rachel is gorgeous, successful, and alluring, but the moment she starts targeting her own students those attributes become predatory and manipulative. She basically pulled Naya into her own control fantasy without her consent. They're both supposed to feel like real people with real motivations who make really, really harmful decisions. I hope I've treated them respectfully!


	27. The Worst Chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like honestly u could just skip this one and u'd be fine

"I think I'm ready."

 

Toriel blinked down at you in surprise.  You were standing in her door, looking up at her with an expression that was as uncertain as it was resolved.  Slowly, the monster's mouth and eyes widened and she started to draw in a breath, but before she could speak you raised a finger.

 

"Not yet."  You almost snorted at how quickly her face went from excited to pouting.  "Sorry, sorry, bad lead in.  I just...y'know, it's Halloween tomorrow, don't wanna worry about it ‘til next week?  But...but yeah.  I definitely wanna learn."

 

Toriel quickly brushed off her disappointment for a genuine smile, clapping her hands as she delighted, "This is wonderful news, my friend!  I had prayed you would come to grips with your talents, and now...oh, come in, come in!"

 

You couldn't help but smile back at her as you walked in.  The smell of fresh-baked something instantly greeted you, and Toriel called, "Frisk, my child, come here!"

 

Their head popped out of their room, and when they saw you they pranced forward with a grin.

 

"Anaya has made a most momentous decision!"  She looked at you expectantly, but by the loud gasp from Frisk, you guessed they already knew what this was all about.  They quickly signed something to their mother, beaming and bouncing.  Toriel laughed and said, "Yes, you may show her your surprise!"

 

You tilted your head at them.  "Surprise?"

 

Frisk was already rushing back to their room, signing something over their shoulder while Toriel laughed, "They have been preparing something for you in anticipation."  She looked a bit apologetic.  "I hope you do not think we are being...overzealous, Anaya, but they have been looking forward to this for quite some time.  Oh, but their surprise needs just a few finishing touches!  Give us a moment!"

 

She followed the teen and left you to wait in the living room.  Smiling to yourself, you wandered aimlessly, looking at photos of your friends.  When your eyes kept falling on Sans, his various smiles and poses, his parting words rushed back over your memory and made your soul give a happy thrum.  You found yourself wishing you could make time go faster and speed toward tomorrow night.

 

Your smile widened.  Since everything had happened, you hadn't given yourself a chance to get excited for Halloween, but you were.  In fact, you were looking forward to it more this year than you ever had.

 

"Frisk would like you to close your eyes, Anaya!"

 

You looked up to see Toriel peeking out from the hall.  You snorted, covering your eyes and saying, "Ok bud, they're closed."

 

You heard a rustling, then flinched when you felt something drop on your head.  You brought down your hands and looked up to see a...brim?  Toriel had donned you with some kind of hat, and before you, Frisk was stretching their arms out to display their "surprise."  You squinted, took off the hat, gave it a good look, and started to laugh.  It didn't take long for the Hoepfulls to join in, Frisk looking immensely pleased with themself.

 

"Really?" you giggled, shaking your head at the distinct hat.

 

"They have been working so hard to have it ready in time for Halloween," Toriel explained.  "With my help, of course.  I can guarantee its authenticity!"

 

The teen's pride was turning to hope as they searched your face, and their expression seemed to ask, _Do you like it?_

 

"Dude."  You put the hat back on and grinned.  "It's _perfect_."

 

 

* * *

 

 

On Halloween night, everyone squished into Undyne's jeep to meet Sans at the party.  The fish monster was dressed up as some short-skirted magical-girl character.  Alphys looked similiar, if a bit less confident, but the consistent encouragement she got from her wife seemed to gradually put her at ease.  Papyrus was a pirate, or an “ADVENTURING SWASHBUCKLER," as he'd corrected you while striking a heroic pose.  Frisk was a werewolf, complete with big clawed gloves and a fake muzzle, and Toriel matched perfectly in a hooded red cape.

 

It was busier than you expected.  Spotlights were raving at the entrance, and even from the parking lot you could feel the music's bass.  Nobody spared your unusual group a glance as humans and monsters streamed toward the haunted house together.

 

"W-wow, l-looks like there's a lot of p-people here," Alphys stammered, pressing closer to her wife.

 

Frisk dashed ahead of everyone else, while Toriel called, "Please do not stray too far, my child, I fear I would not be able to find you in such a crowd!"

 

"WORRY NOT, MY QUEEN!  THE GREAT _CAPTAIN_ PAPYRUS WILL ENSURE THEIR SAFETY!" Papyrus boomed, striking a pose before skipping off after them.  Despite his show of responsibility, he looked just as careless and excited as the teen he was supposed to keep tabs on.  Toriel seemed to have the same thought; she gave you a somewhat exasperated smile, and then followed them into the crowd.

 

"Oh my god, babe, LOOK!"  Undyne suddenly pointed toward a group of people in matching outfits, her eye wide as she gaped down at her wife.  "A whole team of Attack on Titan cosplayers!!"

 

Alphys gasped.  "O-oh wow, they look so cool!"

 

"C'mon, we gotta get a picture!"

 

And just like that, you were left alone.  You were trying to decide which part of the group to follow when you remembered you'd told Sans you'd meet up with him, so while trying to ignore the flutter of anticipation in your chest, you turned toward the main entrance.

 

The haunted house itself still seemed to be running, with the exit leading directly to the roped-off portion of parking lot where the party was.  From the entrance you could see a DJ’s table set before a screen playing various Halloween-themed clips.  People in costumes were dancing, taking pictures, and hanging out around the snack tables set up on the perimeter, and you instantly felt a boost in your mood to see a large number of monsters mingling openly with the humans.

 

You saw Sans before he saw you.  He was standing with a tall, bearded man who you recognized as his boss, Clark, who was greeting people and taking tickets.  It didn't look like he was wearing a costume, until he turned and you got a clear view of the ribcage design on his black hoodie.  Of course.  You were covering your mouth and giggling by the time Clark noticed you.  He pointed and said something to Sans.  As soon as your friend turned toward you, pupils naturally sweeping over your outfit, he stiffened.

 

"Hey, it's the cute zombie girl!" Clark laughed, opening his arms.  He was wearing a thick, blood-stained apron, and pushed back on his head was what looked like a gnarled mask.  You didn't manage to return the greeting before he was, predictably, crushing you in a hug.  He grasped your shoulders once he pulled away, beaming down at you and gushing, "Wow, love love _love_ your costume!  Is it an original piece?"

 

"Um, th-thank you, and yes?  I—" 

 

He spun you toward Sans before you could finish, giving you a little push and saying, "Well this guy's been waiting on you _all night_ , so you two be sure to have a grand old fucking time, ok?"

 

You were left staring after him as he went to greet other partygoers.  You muttered, "Is he, uh, always that abrupt?"

 

"pretty much."  He was still staring at you, at what you were wearing.  His expression didn't seem to know where to settle, until finally one corner of his mouth curled in a grin and he chuckled, "you look...uh."

 

A blush threatened your cheeks at the feeling of his eyes on you, and you gave him a shy smile from under your hat.  Together, Frisk and Toriel had made you an ornate witch's costume.  The hat was traditional, wide-brimmed with a crooked, pointed cap, but the robe was...well, you supposed it drew some inspiration from campy green-skinned witches' smocks, but yours was far more distinct.  Long billowing sleeves; a pleated hem that fell mid-calf; a sort of cape-scarf combo, with ends that hung from your shoulders almost to your feet; and on every edge and stitch, there were intricate designs embroidered in yellow thread.

 

"Frisk's idea," you explained, a bit self-consciously.

 

"it's...you look..."  Your cheeks grew even hotter to see his face getting steadily bluer.  He kept staring, almost long enough to be awkward, before he met your eyes with a teasing smirk and said, " _bewitching_."

 

You froze in surprise for a moment, before breaking down in giggles and feeling your nerves melt away.  "Oh yeah?  Well," you snickered, "you look like a...like a...um.  Sk...skeleton.  Wait, dang it." 

 

He was already laughing at your failed comeback, but before you could recover, he took your hand and led you into the party.  "nice try.  almost as nice as that costume."

 

Fighting a blush was futile at this point.  "H-ha...thanks."

 

The conversation lulled, and your thoughts had a chance to catch up to you.  This was the first time you'd seen him since you told him everything.  You couldn't deny that you'd been worried things would be strange, that he'd treat you differently, and as you looked at him from the corner of your eye you realized...it _was_ different.  He was still holding your hand, but just a little tighter.  He was still smiling, but just a little softer.  Things were the same, you were still friends, he could laugh at your ironic costume while treating you like you were still you, like you hadn't changed, but just beneath the surface you could feel it.  A shift.  An intention that wasn't there before.

 

"So...you think they're gonna play _The Monster Mash_?" you tried with a smirk.  "Would that be insensitive?"

 

"the word i'd use is 'accurate,'" he chuckled.

 

"Guess that's true."

 

There was a pause, before Sans commented, "wasn't sure you were coming."

 

Surprise brought you out of your thoughts.  Sans was facing away from you, pulling you leisurely toward the crowd of party-goers.  He turned a fraction toward you and revealed the uncertainty in his face.

 

"y'know.  with everything going on."

 

Maybe it was the music, or the energy, or his fittingly-lazy outfit still tickling your funny-bone—oh, you'd have to share that one later—but in spite of everything, you were feeling so light.  It was easy to squeeze his hand and quip, "What, and miss all these teenage nerds getting funky?"

 

He snorted.

 

"Ok, that wasn't fair."  You were smiling around at the groups of young humans who were so comfortable in their costumes, excited by the company of monsters, and reminiscent of the misfits you used to hang out with in high school.  "This would've totally been me."

 

"yeah?"

 

"Oh yeah.  Braces, colored highlights, pimples, awkward as heck.  The works."

 

You'd come to the edge of the dance floor, looking out hand in hand as you gave him a humored look from the corner of your eye.  His grin was getting wider and wider.  "you had braces too, huh?"

 

You froze.  "Oh my god.  No.  You...had _braces_?"

 

"what?"  He looked pleased with himself.  "is that weird?"

 

He continued to grin as you giggled into your hand and ducked beneath the brim of your hat, but before you could pry for more details about his teenage years, a cluster of some of the kids who had spurned your teasing called out to Sans with wide, metallic smiles.

 

He'd been telling the truth—he _did_ work with a lot of teenagers.  It seemed like at the end of every enthusiastic introduction to his young coworkers, there was another group instantly taking their place.  You quickly discovered just how popular Sans was at the haunt.  They shared inside jokes with him, asked for his opinion on their costumes, and to your numb surprise, there were a scattered few who giggled and blushed around him in a way that was stupidly familiar.

 

Well.  You guessed you shouldn’t be _that_ surprised.  Not when his hand in yours continued to make your heart race.

 

You'd spent almost an hour meeting various humans and monsters before you'd reunited with Frisk, Papyrus, and Toriel.  You could barely hear anything over the music, but somehow Papyrus' voice carried over.  "I'VE NEVER SEEN SO MUCH CANDY!" he boomed as you approached, gawking at a spread of all the finest store-bought treats.

 

"Pace yourself, my child," Toriel warned.  Frisk was already grabbing a fake-pawful of candy, their grin perfectly wolfish.

 

Papyrus finally noticed Sans' "costume," frowning and scolding, "REALLY, SANS?  REALLY?"

 

"don't like it?"

 

"IT'S THE SAME THING YOU WORE LAST YEAR!  AND THE YEAR PRIOR!!"

 

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Toriel nodded at Papyrus and said, "It is true.  His efforts cannot hope to compare with the Great...Pa- _pirate_!"

 

You burst out laughing, Sans gave her a well-earned high-five, and Papyrus' jaw nearly fell to the floor in betrayal.

 

You kept smiling at the brothers' banter, at Toriel's interjecting puns that absolutely were not helping, at Frisk sneakily shoving as much candy as they could fit in every pocket they had, and all the while Sans' hand stayed in yours.  Before long, you all met back up with Undyne and Alphys to mingle at the edge of the dance floor.

 

"Naya?!"

 

A familiar voice cut through the crowd at one point, turning your head in surprise.  Approaching you, pulling along a rabbit-like monster, was your co-janitor from the elementary school.

 

"Brady?" you returned with a smile.  You let go of Sans for a moment to greet him, but the skeleton naturally stayed by your side.  "What're you doing here?"

 

He beamed and tugged who you recognized as his boyfriend toward you.  "Lonny told me about it, pretty much every monster in town is gonna be here tonight!  And...oh.  My.  God."  He was suddenly looking past you, at your friends.  "You're with Ms. Hoepfull?  And the ambassador?!  Ugh, I'm so jealous!"

 

You laughed and shrugged self-consciously.  "I mean...I guess?"

 

"Wow, ok, but where are my manners?  Naya, this is my boyfriend, Lonny!"

 

The monster offered his hand with a polite smile.  "Nice to meet you."  To your surprise, he nodded toward Sans and added, "How you been, Sans?"

 

"not bad," he replied, looking amused at your confusion.

 

"You two know each other?"

 

The skeleton shrugged and winked.  "i knew everybody back home."

 

"Wait a minute.  Is this..."  Brady covered his mouth in a gasp when he looked at Sans, then leaned toward you and stage-whispered, "Is this that cool comedian you're always telling me about?"

 

You flushed.  Sans grinned.  You barely managed to stammer, "I-I...yeah, ok but I don't _always_ talk about...um, th-this is Sans, but...ok, you knew that, so—"

 

"Wow!  I didn't realize you were dating a monster, too!"

 

Blessedly, Frisk interrupted your conversation and drew the attention away from your tense, frozen expression.  Lonny recognized them, and soon the human ambassador was using their hands to chat with and charm him and your co-worker.

 

"...um," Sans coughed after a moment.

 

You refused to look at him.  "...Well."

 

As you were standing to the side of everything, stiff and silent, your friends finally started to jump in and dance.  You watched them and blushed and became aware of his hand dangling near yours, but you couldn't just take it.  You were at a full stop, trying and failing to figure out how to get out of this awkwardness. 

 

Did it really look like the two of you were...?

 

"H-he...he's just a..."  Your voice was squeaking.  "H-he's never really had much, um...tact?"

 

Everyone was dancing now, on all sides.  You were surrounded, yet you felt like it was just you, alone and nervous as you waited for his reaction.

 

"heh.  uh...i did, y'know.  ask you to come."

 

You finally looked at him, eyes wide.

 

His were downcast and his smile was uneven.  "with me, and all."

 

Relief and something much, much stronger washed over you as you started to reach for him.  Your hand was shaking, but you had to reply.  Affirm him.

 

But before you could, a familiar song started to play.  Your face froze.  You turned toward the screen, disbelieving, and soon your shock was evolving into an ecstatic gasp.  Other humans in the crowd were having similar reactions, and as the movie scene unfolded on the screen, cheers erupted from the crowd.  A Halloween tradition was about to be carried out.

 

Your monster companions were looking around in confusion.  Sans raised a brow at your excitement and muttered, "uh...we missing something, or...?"

 

Riff Raff had just started his solo as you turned, grinned, and announced, "It's the fucking _Time Warp_."

 

Through some combination of nostalgia, silliness, and the inappropriate energy that always accompanied _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ , you felt your reservations drop.  After just a few notes, you were brought back to Halloweens in high school spent sneaking into screenings of the movie with your friends, giggling when on stage and screen Rocky would emerge practically naked, knowing every step of the dance and still knowing to this day.  All around you, humans were singing along and preparing to dance to the chorus while their monster friends were left out of the loop.

 

"Ok, there's going to be steps," you said in a rush, turning to Sans.  He was just watching you, blue and clearly thrown by your sudden burst of enthusiasm.  You blushed back, but still, you were caught up in the crowd and the music.  "So ok, ok, just see how I do it first!"

 

You did the dance.  You sang the words.  You didn't face him the whole time; you looked around and shared laughter with the other humans who danced with you, beside you.  Your friends drifted closer to the two of you, wanting to join in on the energy.  Everywhere you saw humans showing their own monster companions what to do.  Brady put his hands on Lonny's hips and guided him; cross-species co-workers grinned and went slowly through the steps; and now you were demonstrating it to everyone, getting ready for the final chorus.

 

The last dance began.  The monsters joined in.  There was so much humor, and happiness, and comradery, not just from your small group, but throughout the crowd.  Monster and human voices shouted out the lyrics and cheered at the end.

 

But Sans just watched you.  He shared a grin with Papyrus, Toriel, Frisk, but his eyes were yours.  His pupils were bright with laughter, his smile was filling you with warmth.  His gaze would go from your feet to your hips to your face, your smile, your eyes, and something passed between you.  A last wall of hesitation crumbled.

 

The next song started, and there was that moment of pause, of laughing and scratching your neck uncertainly, of looking at him while standing just barely apart from the dancing crowd and realizing without words that you were here with him.  No matter how many people surrounded you, you were with _him_.

 

And then the pause ended.  Undyne grabbed your wrist and Papyrus grabbed Sans, and you were being dragged through bodies into the midst of things.  You were released in the center of everyone; Toriel and Frisk; Undyne and Alphys; Papyrus and a blushing, smiling Sans.  Still looking at you.  Still with you.  You grinned, felt an unwinding in your chest you were sure was your soul, and you danced.

 

You danced with Undyne and Alphys, giggling and flapping your hands over your head like in the _Caramelldansen_.  You danced with Papyrus; he spun you around and dipped you in a dramatic, brief salsa.  You danced with Toriel, bumping hips and grinning and reveling in a friendship that disregarded age and species.  You started to dance with Frisk, but the devious, clever teen quickly turned you, pushed you by your back, and nearly made you collide with Sans.

 

Another pause.  Another blush.  A moment of not knowing what came next, reflected in your face and his, until you were clasping hands.  His grin widened; yours followed.  Manic and happy, you were dancing, laughing, losing track of him and everything else, and then he was in front of you.  So close to you.  When did he get there?  Was he really moving?  Had you actually seen him dance at any point?  Did it matter?

 

The decision was unspoken, but in tandem, the two of you moved together to the edge of the crowd, the edge of the party, unnoticed in the exuberant frenzy, and left.  You were still laughing and moving like wisps of dancing still clung to your feet; he was strolling with his custom casualness, but his grin betrayed his energy.  The music grew quieter and quieter as you crossed the parking lot.  You were still holding hands.

 

Your pace died down, but your giddiness didn't.  You were feeling so flushed that the chill of autumn couldn't touch you.  You passed late-night Halloweeners, but you didn't notice.

 

You just walked with him.  You just talked.

 

"what was that?" Sans was chuckling.

 

"What was...?  Oh, you mean _The Time Warp_?  Dude it's from this ridiculous movie that people watch around Halloween, _Rocky Horror Picture Show_.  It's a musical.  It's wild."

 

"a horror show...that's a musical."  He shook his head.  "you humans."

 

You laughed.  "You just don't get it!"

 

"gimme something to go off of."

 

You stopped at a bench and showed him some of the scenes on your phone, giggling at his reactions.

 

"i dunno about that guy's credibility as a doctor," he muttered at one point.

 

"His name is Dr. Frank-N-Furter.  It's right there, it's his title.  How can you doubt him."

 

"point taken."

 

You kept walking, kept talking.  It was such a natural, easy chat, you couldn't even tell how you jumped from topic to topic.

 

"Weirdest job I've had...?  Probably...probably the strip club."

 

He let out a hard snort.  "woah.  that's way better than mine."

 

"No, oh, wait no, god, I wasn't a stripper," you amended as you gave him a light shove.  "It was still weird though.  I cleaned up after, that was interesting enough, but I also had to like...make sure all the tips went to the right women?  Like, all the bills that get thrown everywhere?  I mean, all the workers were super chill about it, they all looked out for each other and they were nice, but...I had to _touch_ all that money."

 

"oh.  oh no."

 

"Right?" you laughed.  "Ok, there's mine, how about you?"

 

He thought for a moment.  "maybe...the covert hot-dog stand."

 

"Pft, _what_?  Why covert?"

 

"not really covert, just undyne yelled at me when she found out about it.  sold hot dogs and cats at just...just super inflated prices.  i don't know why people bought them.  i felt kind of bad, but god it was funny."

 

You were laughing even harder.  "You conned people into buying hot dogs?  Also, hot cats?  What?"

 

"yup."  His grin grew fonder.  "even frisk bought a few, back when they were underground.  they just kept shoving money at me, even when there was absolutely no room in their pockets.  so i started putting 'dogs on their head."

 

"Oh my god that's cute."

 

"guess it was.  got up to thirty before i had to cut them off."

 

" _Thirty_?  That's...no, there's no way, how could you have...?"

 

To your surprise, his eye flashed blue for a brief second, but instead of power you felt only mischief.  "i'll show you sometime."

 

You walked so long, you reached the thinner edge of the city.  You saw a park with a few hills and trees coming up, and you both naturally headed in that direction.  The later it got, the deeper you fell into the conversation.

 

"Well, y'know, I haven't done much playing since...um...college.  But I've actually been showing Frisk a few chords, might help them with some songs soon."

 

"you wanted to teach music, right?  to younger kids."

 

Your smile became wistful.  "H-ha, yeah.  I used to."

 

"not anymore?"

 

You shrugged.  His hand squeezed yours gently.  "I mean...I don't...I haven't practiced much lately. And I haven't thought about finishing up school.  And honestly, it's kind of...sore?  I guess?"

 

His hand tightened even more, and he seemed to hesitate before murmuring, "'s not fair."

 

You both knew what he was referring to.  No sense in shying away from it, not now that you felt so open, not after such a great night.  "It's ok.  She ruined some stuff for a while, but...that was then, y'know?"

 

"yeah."  He walked a bit closer.  "this is now."

 

You smiled and felt the bad memories shrink against the happy thump of your soul.  "Yeah."

 

A cold breeze suddenly caused you to shiver, despite the witchy hat and robes you still wore.  Sans didn't say anything as he let go of you for a moment, shrugged out of his hoodie, and passed it over.  You blushed and smiled appreciatively before draping it over your shoulders.  You didn't pretend not to enjoy the way his scent accompanied it.

 

"Thanks.  But won't you be...?"

 

He took your hand again and shook his head, left only in a t-shirt.  "nah.  temperature's not quite the same when you don't have skin.  it all goes right through me."  He waggled his brow at you, drawing out a giggle.

 

This was now.

 

You kept talking.  The birds were waking up and the sky was graying when you reached a bench at the top of a hill.  A muted bit of surprise pricked you.  Just how long had you been wandering around together, and when had you returned to this quiet, vulnerable place?  When had things gotten so personal?

 

"I didn't tell you I was born in Ebott, did I?"

 

"nope.  for real?"

 

"Yup."  You offered a small smile.  "Same hometown."

 

He returned it, with just as much bitter-sweetness.  "same hometown."

 

"I was gonna mention it back when we talked.  Y'know, another one of those 'magic coincidences,' I figured.  Just knew you were struggling with it so I didn't wanna...add to it."

 

"i mean...i guess it explains a lot."  You were relieved not to see any of the guard he'd put up when he first learned about your magic.  He just sat back and shook his head, his hand still in yours, his eyes still bright.  "looks like the sorcerers really are just popping up over there."

 

"Dunno."  You sat back too.  "My parents moved there from India after they got married.  Not sure why they chose Ebott of all places, but...who knows.  Maybe it is some magic fate bullshit."

 

There was a moment of heavy silence, where you could tell he wanted to say something but didn't seem to know how.  Finally he muttered, "you said...um."

 

"It's ok, whatever it is."

 

"ok.  uh...you said your parents, um.  didn't believe you?"

 

Your face fell a bit, but it really was ok.  You could talk about this now.  "They've always been kind of...don't really know the right word.  Traditional?  Stubborn, maybe?  They didn't really appreciate who I was dating, or that I...y'know...like girls, and stuff, so...I mean, they had a completely different upbringing.  They were even an arranged marriage."

 

He raised a brow.  "a what?"

 

"Y-yeah, it's kind of weird, um.  Basically their parents made them get married.  They didn't choose each other.  I mean, I'm pretty sure they still...liked each other?  But I never really opened that can of worms.  Never said, 'Oh hey mom and dad are you in love or nah?'"

 

He chuckled.  You did, too.  You couldn't remember ever joking about that side of your life, but it felt good.

 

"What about you?"

 

Finally, he stiffened.  He didn't close off, but his voice was just a bit less casual as he said, "me?"

 

"Your parents."

 

You kept your eyes on him, and you could see the subtle, tense changes in his expression that told you it was a long story.  You were about to apologize, ask about anything else, but he muttered, "my, uh...my dad raised us."

 

Something about the way he said it let you know there was no mother involved.  Your face became somber, and you unconsciously leaned into him.

 

"but that was when pap was pretty little.  i actually, uh.  y'know.  took care of him, for a lot of our lives.  worked a few jobs, paid for a nice house, it was...it wasn't bad.  just me and paps."

 

You wouldn't ask.  You wouldn't pry.  You just ran your thumb over the back of his hand and let your head rest on his shoulder.  His bones were hard under your cheek, his magic the quietest tingle.

 

"yeah.  wasn't bad."

 

A few moments of silence stretched out.  You both quietly watched the steadily brightening sky, listened to the birdsong and each other breathing.  The sun would come up soon.

 

"never really thought he'd have this, though."

 

You looked at him.  He looked at the horizon.  "hope was a big thing back then.  everyone had a lotta hope that we'd get out.  i think we all kinda felt like we had to.  we couldn't do anything, so maybe if we hoped hard enough, we'd...heh.  wasn't hard for paps.  he never gave up.  not once.  i tried to give him the best life possible, but i..."

 

He raised your joined hands and stared at them for a moment.  You stayed silent, watching the lingering traces of disbelief cross his face.

 

"i didn't think we'd...that i'd ever..."  He shook his head.  "i mean, the sun's gonna come up.  i'm gonna see that.  everywhere there's just...miles and miles, going anywhere.  in every direction.  even up.  that's...that's insanity.  and i'm with..."

 

Finally, slowly, his pupils lifted to yours.  You were frozen, facing him, your hands joined and your sides pressed together.  You'd taken off your hat when you sat down, and now you felt exposed.  As his gaze flicked between your eyes, you were vulnerable, your hair was pushed behind your ears, he could see your scar, he could see how scared you were, but...that didn't matter.  The flecks of yellow that grew a fraction brighter every day didn't matter.

 

"naya," he said, and you had to shiver at the depth of his voice, at the way the near-morning light colored him a soft gray. 

 

He was so...god, you couldn't keep the word from your mind, he was _beautiful_.  You were struck by it all at once, taken by his impossible, perfect existence, and there was another word coming to your mind, one too terrifying to let surface, one that was too big and too soon.  That word you buried.  But you allowed 'beautiful' to take over until you could think nothing else.

 

Was he waiting for an answer?  You swallowed, your mouth failed once, twice, then you whispered, "Sans?"

 

"can i kiss you?"

 

You didn't answer.  You couldn't.  But you didn't know who moved first before you were closing your eyes and feeling the electricity of soft, tangible magic against your lips.  You lost all reason and resolve as you clutched the front of his shirt.  His hand released yours to hold the back of your head as his other cupped your cheek.  You could feel his fingers trembling, like they wanted to clutch you tighter, closer, but he resisted.

 

He pulled away far too quickly.  He was shaking.  You were shaking.  You opened your eyes for an instant, saw the first rays of sun spilling over his bones, saw the look on his face that was somewhere between joy and desperation, and you were overcome.

 

"naya—"

 

"No," you breathed, nonsensical and urgent, and then your hands were pulling his mouth back to yours. 

 

You hit teeth for an instant before he recovered from the surprise and gasped against you.  You were too lost to be surprised by the ghostly, inhuman lips moving with yours.  You were too lost.  You were lost, and happy, and steadily filling with an almost audible hum resonating from your chest.  His hand tangled in your hair.  His fingers dug into your cheek.  You felt like the world around you had allowed this brief pause.  It had finally slowed down and stopped for you.  You were finally with him.

 

You were with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys have been....TOO patient with me. I literally don't know how to express my appreciation, getting this far. Like...this is corny and maybe dramatic but you guys have changed my life?? With your nice comments?? It's so gay but so true and i love you all
> 
> ALSO. There is a chance I will be taking a lil hiatus. I have to retake a big scary test and it's scary very scary and I gotta study, but...who knows. I am known to goof off.
> 
> Thanks again. It's about fucking time for these two.


	28. Third Person?  In MY xReader Fic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's more likely than you think and i am very in touch with the Youth and their jokes these days, ho ho
> 
> And hey, check it out, [f.arts!!](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/tagged/joat-fanart)  
> [and arts!!](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/146785765724/stress-relief-doods-cuz-i-cant-doods-for-real)  
> [and sharts!!](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/146181526519/a-formal-letter-of-congratulations)

He noticed her right away.

 

Tucked in the back of her group, she was trying to make herself look as small as possible, and succeeding.  Eyes wide and unfocused; mouth tight; arms wrapped firmly around her chest.  She was scared, and not in the cute, screechy way most young women walking through the haunt were.  No, she was well and truly terrified.

 

But that wasn't his problem.

 

He waited for their eyes to adjust.  He was ready to go through the motions.  They blinked against the darkness, they saw him, and they all tried to act tough.  Tried to shrug off the tension.  Well, not her.  He felt the slightest twist of pity—that poor girl obviously didn't want to be here, and now he'd just have to make things worse for her.  It was his job.  He could only hope she'd laugh about it later.  He glanced at her one last time.

 

Her eyes were on him, still wide, but no longer petrified.  She was looking at his face.  Her arms relaxed a fraction and she tilted her head, as if she was concentrating, almost as if she recognized him from somewhere.  But that was impossible.  He never forgot a face.  He'd never seen her in his life.

 

Too late to read into it.  "heya," he drawled with a grin.  The squeals and jumps hadn't stopped being funny yet—he hadn't worked there long enough.  He had to resist chuckling as they scattered.  Not so tough now.  But...

 

Why wasn't she moving?

 

She just kept watching him, with that same uncertain expression.  She barely even seemed to notice that the rest of her friends had gone on without her.

 

"uh, you're supposed to run away, kid."  Was she really that scared?  That she was just frozen, staring at him?

 

Apparently not, as his voice immediately snapped her out of it and brought back the true terror.  He winced as she ran away after her friends.  They couldn't have gone far, right?  She'd find them.  She'd be fine.

 

And then he found her entirely _not_ fine.  She said to him so plainly, "You're a monster."  He didn't get it.  She said it almost like it made her feel better.  It was so strange and blunt, he had to grin.  He had to talk to her.  He had to stay with her.

 

He had to make her laugh.

 

And he did.  And it helped, he thought.  The terror, at least, was gone, and she was ok by the time he'd led her outside.  Apologetic and embarrassed, but ok.  And she'd made him laugh, too.

 

And her name was Anaya.

 

* * *

 

 

Seeing her facing off Flowey, he could pick up that same blind terror he'd seen the first night he met her.  She was frozen and tense, wide-eyed and silent.  For a split second before the flower looked at him, he saw the way he was grinning.  The spinning petals.  The dark intention.

 

He wouldn't have it.

 

He'd made so many promises to Frisk.  They'd made so many reassurances.  They knew he couldn't forgive or forget, but they'd convinced him to tolerate.  He could make the kid think he trusted Flowey's restraint.  He could make them think he wouldn't do anything to hurt him.

 

But the moment he saw those petals, that smile, and the way she was shaking, all bets were off.  Maybe if it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have pictured himself plucking Flowey apart fiber by fiber.  Maybe if it wasn't her...but it was.  And for some reason, that mattered.  She mattered.

 

And she kept mattering.  All night, he didn't want to leave her side.  She said she was ok, she smiled at Frisk, and she handled it like a champ, but was she still scared?  No, he didn't think so.  The person he was getting to know wasn't defined by the lost girl he met at the haunted house.  This person was tougher than she looked.  She was funnier and friendlier and, yes, still a little fearful.  She spoke like she didn't trust her own mouth; she walked like she didn't want to be noticed; and she laughed like she wasn't used to it.  She joked with him badly, wonderfully, and as he walked her home and to her door, he wondered...

 

What else could he come to know about her?

 

* * *

 

 

Had he ever realized how truly _human_ she was?

 

She walked around the planetarium like it was all...possible.  Like it was normal.  She nodded at the exhibits and answered his questions readily.  She'd grown up with this.  She'd learned about it in school.  Hell, when she was little, she'd briefly and passionately entertained the dream of becoming an astronaut for all of one afternoon.  Even as a child, she'd believed she could make it to space.  She'd thought it was possible, and the craziest thing?  It _was_.

 

More and more he found himself just as fascinated by her as he was by the information surrounding him.  Here was this person who'd always known the sky, the stars, the _sun_ , who literally couldn't imagine a world without them, and who'd grown up knowing that people who were just like her had walked on the moon.  For how different their pasts were, she could very well be an alien.

 

So how on _earth_ were they here now?  Together?  Two people from the same planet, but different worlds.  And how was she not just as baffled as he was?

 

That disbelief kept washing over him as he sat in the round theater and watched the universe shoot by him.  He'd watched movies, he'd read books, but this was something else.  This brought a smile to his face and a warmth to his ribs he hadn't felt in a long time.  He felt excited.  He felt ambitious.

 

And then he looked at her.  Finally, she was lost in it, too.  She was breathing softly up at the sight of a comet's tail.  She was, heh, _starry-eyed_.  Literally.  The projections were reflected in her dilated pupils as they flickered back and forth.  He felt something catch at the sight.  He felt something almost like pain, but...

 

He touched her hand; she turned to him.  Her face was so open.  So relaxed.  She looked utterly unguarded.  That something strengthened in him, and his voice paused.  He didn't even know what he'd wanted to say, but "thanks" was what came out.

 

* * *

 

 

Clark really had done a great job, but even better was seeing how much she liked it.  For someone who hated haunted houses, she got a kick out of looking like she worked at one.  She'd been nervous at first, but then she was sitting with him and laughing like always.  He liked that the best.  Just relaxing with her.  She was so funny, even if she didn't think so.  She was great company.

 

And she was curious.  He could tell.  He could see the way she looked at his body.  Not like the other humans did with discomfort and disbelief, but with genuine fascination.  That was fine.  He was an oddity up here, he knew it.  It was a huge part of his act.  He didn't mind a little curiosity.

 

But this room was really dark, and she was really close.  Curiosity brought her even closer.  It wasn't hard to appear relaxed—he'd always been so good at that—but the way she was looking at him and the feeling of her fingertips on his bones was...well.  He had to put some actual effort into being casual.

 

Her eyes dropped, but his were fixed.  Her hand was on the side of his face, and he knew it wasn't what it looked like, she was just studying, but he could still feel her.  The crooks of her joints, the cushion of her palm.  How weird.  Had he ever felt a hand like that, so much like his but softer, warmer?  For a brief, indulgent moment, he let his eyelids relax as he concentrated on the sensation.

 

Then he felt her tense, just barely.  He looked at her and knew where the line of her vision fell, and all at once reality reminded him that he was exposed, she could see him, they were alone, and there would be questions.  Those questions were right at the back of her tongue when his fingers tightened lightly around her wrist.  It stopped her, but then she was looking at him.  She was meeting his eyes.  A tiny part of him tried to think of what to say to make her laugh.  Could he cancel out this quietness, bring back the carefree atmosphere?  Did he want to?  Or did he want something else?

 

What did he want...?

 

She was out of his grasp before he could figure it out.  He was limp.  In-character.  The group came in, same as always, and behind them she wasn't looking at him.  He stared at her.  He'd lost that moment of closeness and darkness, but he still wanted _something_.

 

He just didn't know what.

 

* * *

 

 

He'd found so many reasons to hate some humans as an idea or a unit, but individually?  This guy would be one of few.

 

It was all he could do to concentrate on his act as he watched her talk to Cody.  She was turned a bit away from him; he couldn't see her expression.  He could imagine it though.  Frozen, unhappy, sick.  His phalanges were clenched in his pockets.  His grin was tense, even if the audience couldn't tell.  He tried to focus.  He tried to remind himself that she was strong in her own way.  She couldn't always fight, but she could withstand.  He hated the thought, but she could.  She could escape, and later they'd laugh and insult him and she wouldn't be...

 

He was touching her.  He had his dirty fingers around her wrist.  She'd turned enough that he could see her face, the hardness, the disgust, and that was it.  So much for concentrating.

 

He brought his hands from his pockets, and with the subtlest flick of one finger, he sent Cody's glass of water on a new gravitational course.  It worked.  He jerked away, and she looked up at him.  She met his eyes with an expression that tensed with something more than just discomfort.  She looked...numb?  Confused?  She didn't even look like she'd just been dealing with that creep, she looked like...

 

The crowd was murmuring.  His eyes darted around.  He had a brief urge to damn it all and hop down from the stage, talk to her, take her away, but...  "whoops.  sorry folks.  guess i was just _bone-ing out_ for a second there."

 

Not his most graceful recovery, but a few more quips and he could see it working.  He kept checking on her.  He saw her walk away.  Another server visited Cody's table, but the man waved them away, got up, and went to the bar while flashing patient smiles her way.  In the midst of his jokes, his eyes narrowed.  That fucker was biding his time.

 

He finished, walked backstage, came out, and saw her already looking for him.  There was that same lost expression.  "Sans, did you--" she started to say, but she couldn't finish.  She was working.  She was going to be forced to serve that guy, _smile_ at that guy, and he knew it.  He was counting on it.  He was waiting for it.

 

And that asshole would just have to be disappointed.

 

He took her hand, and all night he was consumed by a single-minded protectiveness.  Fuck being professional.  Fuck boundaries.  He wouldn't embarrass her, he wouldn't turn this into more of her problem than it had to be, but he wouldn't let him corner her.  She kept working through her anxiety, and she even laughed.  That made up for everything, making her laugh.  And she managed to forget that Cody was there, lurking, stalking, but _he_ didn't forget for a moment.  He didn't forget when he caught Cody's eye, held it, and grinned; and he didn't forget when Cody was finally trudging out the door.

 

More than anything, he didn't forget when she hugged him later as they were walking home, because this time, during this embrace, he realized something.  She was one of the smallest things he'd ever held.  Not just physically, though she certainly was slight in that department, but...the way she stood.  The way she exposed herself, just a little, every time she put her arms around him.  The way she was so brief.  Embarrassed, even.  The way she seemed to fold her body, bend her neck, curl her back, and hold her breath.

 

Everything was just...small.

 

And from that tiny, hurried moment of gratitude, stress, and relief, while anger still boiled in his soul, he reached a conclusion.  As long as it was in his power, he wouldn't let anyone take advantage of her.

 

* * *

 

 

"Brother, we have a crisis on our hands!"

 

He did his best to keep appearing nonchalant as he tossed his shoes to the corner of his bedroom.  "yeah?  what crisis is that, bro."

 

Papyrus frowned.  "Didn't you see the human just now?  Her eyes??  They are positively swollen, and I've been told by Frisk that that's not generally a good sign about a human's emotional state!"

 

He stiffened.  Of course he'd noticed.  He'd only seen her cry once, the first night they met.  That was different.  He hadn't had anything to do with that, but now...this had to be his fault.  It had to.  There was no other explanation.  It was all because he was proud, he couldn't just apologize for ignoring her, for not trying to understand why she'd been...scared of him.

 

"maybe tori's cooking brought her to tears," he chuckled, shrugging at his brother.

 

"This is no laughing matter!  Naya is our friend, and your _very good_ friend."  Papyrus stressed those words, raising his brow at the shorter skeleton, but he refused to react.  "It's your duty to wipe her tears with the _kerchief_ of _friendship_!"

 

"dunno bro.  pretty sure tori's got her covered."  He started moving past Papyrus.  Finally, he let slip a bit of unhappiness as he added, "and i don't think she's in the market for my help right now."

 

And of course he was wrong.  There was awkwardness before relief, but relief came, and he was able to hold her once again.  He was able to take her hand.  Make her laugh.  Somehow, impossibly, she told him there was nothing to apologize for.  And even more impossibly, she'd wanted to be with him.  She was so tired, but her face had lit up and her hand had given him an unconscious squeeze.  She forgave him enough, trusted him enough even to drift off on his shoulder.

 

He probably should've felt embarrassed.  He probably should've woken her up, taken her home.  That was probably the right thing to do.  But the sound of her breath slowing, the way her body let go of its constant tension, the gentle weight of her... Selfishly, he wanted to keep that.  Just for one night.

 

He only rose once to guide Papyrus to his bedroom, and when he came back, she'd fallen to her side, her head occupying his seat.  He deliberated for a brief moment.  He could still wake her up.  This was inappropriate, right?  He was invading.  She wasn't his...he didn't have permission to...

 

Gently, he lifted her head.  She mumbled, but didn't wake.  He sat, put a pillow on his lap, and guided her back down.  He was tense, scolding himself, not looking at her, what if she woke up, what if this scared her, what if she pulled away again, what was he doing?

 

But then she sighed.  Her body curled into itself; she clutched the pillow with one hand; she nuzzled closer.  His mind pulled a full stop as he finally stared down at her.  Her hair fell everywhere, over the pillow to spill onto his knees, over her back, over her face, but he could see her eyes.  Closed and relaxed.  Without thinking, he brushed a black strand away from her lips.  He could feel the tingle of magic on his cheeks as he wove his fingers through her hair and over her scalp.

 

Something else had started playing on the TV, but he wasn't watching it.  He was remembering all the times he'd been so close, meeting her eyes and watching her face go red, and in those instances he'd wondered what he wanted.  He hadn't known then.

 

But he did now.

 

* * *

 

 

Rage and magic still crackled through his bones, but she needed him.  She needed someone to stay with her.  That was more important.

 

She'd been so scared.  More scared than he realized she could be.  There wasn't just terror, there was shock and betrayal and genuine, raw horror that put anything a haunted house could construct to shame.  He'd always felt like he had some amount of power to make her feel better when she was scared, but now he was helpless.  And he almost didn't make it.  If he hadn't felt that impossible flash of magic, if he hadn't gone to her, she might've...she could be...

 

He hadn't felt that in such a long time.  The numbness.  The ease and coldness with which he could grab another person's soul.  The impact with every fall, every shift in gravity, every slam.  The obedient, weaponized terrors that lurked somewhere just beyond, somewhere parallel, waiting for his command.  Waiting for his permission.  Thank god it hadn't come to that...but he'd still felt it.  In the end, it hadn't taken much strength to protect her, but that had left a surge of unused energy tearing at his soul.  He was left stiff and vengeful in the quiet of his room, now that she was asleep, now that she was safe.

 

He looked back at her.  His hand was still on her cheek.  He remembered seeing her peacefully at rest just last week, and this wasn't the same.  Her eyebrows scrunched; her teeth were grinding; and every now and then she would twitch.  He knew what she was going through.  The permanent bags under his eye sockets were proof of that.  Even as his thumb ran over her cheek, his fingers sparked.  They tensed.  The magic danced through him and begged for action, and it was all he could do not to oblige.

 

But…there was business to attend to.  He said her name softly, made sure she was really out, and stood.  He shoved his hands in his pockets.  With a blink, he was standing back in the club.  His magic felt a fraction of release from the jump, but it only made him hungrier.

 

Cody had crawled from backstage to the middle of the floor.  He was moving slowly; he must've just come to.  Even though it felt like it had been hours, it hadn't even been twenty minutes.  He didn't see the skeleton grinning down at him.

 

"hey."

 

The man gasped and whipped around, his face contorting in fear.  He tried to go faster, but another blink and the monster was blocking his way, eyes empty.

 

"P-please, I-I don't--gah!"  He was cut off when the skeleton raised one hand and turned his soul blue.  He wasn't crushing him, just holding him still.  Just a taste.

 

"i got a _bone_ to pick with you," he chuckled.

 

"Look," Cody hissed, absolutely desperate, "I s-swear I wasn't gonna d-do anything, I would never!  We were just—"

 

"you really think i care what you _weren't_ gonna do?"  He crouched down to the man's level.  "no.  i didn't come to hear your excuses.  i came to get something straight."

 

Forcibly, he turned and lifted Cody to face a security camera mounted in the corner, drawing out a yelp.  The camera was currently facing straight down.  Blinded.

 

"see that?  normally 's got a pretty good view of the place.  and when they come back in the morning, find the door unlocked, blood on the floor, they're gonna check it.  and they're gonna find it cuts out right after seeing a guy trespassing, harassing one of their employees, and stealing liquor."

 

Cody swallowed, eyes darting between him and the camera.

 

"now."  He let the human drop.  "way i see it, one of two things is gonna happen.  option one, i erase the tape altogether.  you call the police, tell 'em you saw some shifty figures breaking in here.  and here's the most important part:  you gotta make yourself disappear.  cuz if you don't..."  His eye flashed cyan and his grin stretched.  Cody went pure white.  " _i will_."

 

Something brave and moronic in Cody made him scowl.  "Y-you can't do this.  Look at me, they'll ask what happened, they'll—"

 

He was lifted with a scream.  He fell upwards, stopping just short of the ceiling.  The skeleton brought his arm down and Cody with it, until he was suspended at eye level with him.

 

"that'd be option number two.  you stick around and tell the police everything.  thing is, i don't like option two.  and if i get even the slightest inkling that's the one you're gonna choose, well.  pretty sure your forensics department still hasn't figured out how to trace magic."  He clenched his fingers and stepped closer as Cody squealed.  "do i make myself clear?"

 

There was a fleeting instant where he hoped Cody would do something stupid.  A moment of remembering the look on her face and the way her soul was humming frantically, defensively.  He wanted an excuse to do something about it.  He wanted to see that same fear reflected in his eyes.  He wanted to hear his soul wail.

 

"...Y-yes."

 

He let go.  While Cody gasped in relief as his soul regained its color, he felt ashamed at the prick of disappointment in his magic.  He felt sick.

 

"attaboy."

 

When he didn't move, Cody dared to scurry toward the door, adrenaline making him forget his injuries.

 

"oh, and one more thing, pal."

 

The man froze.  He turned a fraction, sweating and nearly hyperventilating at the sight of the slouching, smiling skeleton behind him.

 

"the phone."

 

Cody jumped.  He brought it out of his pocket and swallowed, cautiously taking a few steps closer, arm outstretched.  The monster was complacent as he approached.  He put out his hand, relaxed, but when the man got close enough, he grabbed his wrist and yanked him down to eye level.

 

"if you ever touch her again..."  His grin snapped open and his eye flared.  "I  w i l l  s e n d  y o u  s t r a i g h t  t o  h e l l."

 

* * *

 

 

He was having a hard time with all this.

 

He'd met her because of magic?  Because of _fate_?  After all this time, after he got comfortable, after he'd finally decided to trust that it was all over, his life was still in someone else's hands.

 

This wasn't the time to freak out.  This wasn't the time to pull back.  She needed him.  The whole time talking to Toriel, she hadn't let go of his hand.  She still wasn't all there since last night.  The trauma was bubbling under the surface, he could see it, and if he couldn't protect her from feeling it in the first place, he could at least be there for her now.

 

But he _was_ freaking out.  He was thinking about whatever entity had crawled into Frisk three years ago.  He was thinking of it watching him still, playing with his life, playing its game.  And Toriel was being so cavalier; acting like this was the greatest thing in the world, acting like she was something to be studied, asking her to just bare her soul.  Leave herself vulnerable.  How dare she, after everything he'd watched her go through?  He glared at Toriel, but when Frisk interrupted, when she let go of his hand and took the kid's and he looked at her face, there was something more than fear.

 

There was determination.

 

Her golden light spilled across the room, and he looked away.  He knew it was different.  Monster souls were personal, intimate, but human souls...they could come out at any little thing.  They came out to fight, for god's sake.  They were rowdier and brighter, always glowing and colorful, so he shouldn't have the same reservations.  He didn't mind seeing Frisk's soul, after all.  But...

 

This was _her_ soul.  And it wasn't scared anymore, not like last night.  It was soft and quiet and hesitant, and even without looking, he could feel its magic.  Unmistakable as it was foreign.  No sooner had it emerged from her chest than he felt her relax beside him.  Clenching his fists, he forced himself to look.

 

Yellow that was softer than the flowers underground.  Yellow that wasn't ostentatious or artificial.  This was a color he'd never seen before reaching the surface.  This was the color of the sky, the clouds, and the sun the very first time he'd seen them as twilight fell.  This was that first moment.  This was that feeling of disbelief, and relief, and awe.

 

And her face, her eyes, bathed in the yellow light and slack with wonder.  He stared at her as long as he dared.  He felt a pain, a clenching, a movement in his own soul that scared him.  Her gaze flicked to him, and his was averted.  He couldn't look at her too long.

 

She was far too bright.

 

* * *

 

 

You were riding the bus, dozing on Sans' shoulder as it clattered along.  People were on their way to work.  The streets were already busy.  The sun was all the way up.

 

Your night-long walk had taken you practically to the opposite side of the city from where you lived, and you were so exhausted you'd opted for a bus ride home.  Sans hadn't argued.  That gave him more time with you than taking a shortcut, and he was already dreading saying goodbye.  It was the best kind of dread he could imagine.

 

Even asleep, your hand was in his.  His other arm was around your shoulders.  He was tired, too, and completely drunk on joy and disbelief, but there was no way he could sleep.  He just stared out the window and watched the people walk by.  People who were oblivious.  People whose lives hadn't changed overnight.  He smiled and thought of every moment leading up to this one.  He tilted his head back to rest against yours, rubbing your hand with his thumb and listening to you breathe.

 

When the bus stopped, you woke with a tired little noise that brightened his smile even more.  Gently, he guided you out.  You rubbed your eyes and yawned.  He went as slowly as you needed, letting you lean against him and feeling his chest tighten at every look you'd give him, every blush, every sleepy giggle.

 

You reached the door too soon.  His smile finally dimmed, his hand unconsciously tightening in yours.  He didn't want to go.  But you needed to rest.

 

"This is me," you laughed softly.

 

"yeah," he chuckled.

 

Silence, then you turned and took his other hand.  You faced him, head down, smile shy, and you fell forward onto his shoulder.  Without his jacket, his neck was left bare, and he shuddered to feel your breath against his bones.  He sighed and wrapped his arms around you, clutching you like he'd always wanted to.  You were as small and precious as ever.

 

"Goodnight," you mumbled.  "Er.  Good morning.  Whatever."

 

"semantics."

 

"Totally."

 

He pulled away, just enough to see you.  There was still that fleeting moment of hesitation before he brought a hand up to your face, and when you automatically leaned into his touch, eyes closed and smile content, he was overwhelmed.  He waited for that affirming look to give him permission, then he pulled you to him.  He felt your lips warm his magic.  You were so impossibly soft.  He kept this kiss brief, tender, chaste.  He had to, or he'd never be able to let you go.

 

You stopped and leaned your forehead against his for several moments, breathing faster than before.  "H-ha, um...ok then," you whispered.  You sounded delirious.  He had to laugh.

 

"go get some sleep."

 

"Y-yeah, I should...right.  Uh-huh."

 

Neither of you moved.  He grinned, unable to resist kissing you one last time and leaving you even redder.  You pulled away and put a hand on your cheek, not looking at him, searching for your keys.

 

"Hoo boy, um.  Yeah.  Sleep.  Need it."  You started to unlock the door, but you turned to him again and met his eyes with a look that filled him with something like fear, but sweeter.  "Sans," you murmured.  "I...I, um..."

 

You couldn't finish, but he understood.  He took your hand and squeezed it, leaning forward to brush his teeth alarmingly close to your ear.  He breathed you in for just a moment, the lingering smell of night air.  He couldn't quite find the words either.  With a quiet laugh, he finally said, "bye bye, nye-nye.”

 

You snorted.  You leaned against him and laughed and shook your head.  You didn't want to leave.  He could feel it.  But you let go of his hand, ducked into your apartment, and with a smile that made his soul shake you replied, "Peace out, bean sprout.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really should be studying


	29. Phrasing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M. ..BACK.
> 
> So that test I put my life on hold to study for? Ha ha yeah I did not pass it, super great. I am pretty torn up about it but know what? The same time that went down the other aspects of my life started looking up. For example, my work is FINALLY giving me a consistent day off. After working there for a year with NO days off. SO I'LL HAVE TIME TO WRIIIIIITE.
> 
> You guys............give me life. And that's only slightly over-exaggerating. You have been so kind, and patient, and wonderful, and i love you guys and [i drew this to demonstrate exactly what ya'll mean to me](http://mod2amaryllis.tumblr.com/post/148624730607/to-everyone-whos-ever-said-something-kind-about)

“I have work tonight.”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“So, y’know, I don’t have much time.”

 

“Understandable.  Yes.”

 

“But I was thinking…I mean, I have a _little_ time, so like.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“If you wanted to, we could…I dunno.  Get started?”

 

Toriel didn’t quite manage to suppress her squeal as Frisk dropped their backpack and clapped their hands to their cheeks.  You snorted at both of them, shrugging out of your jacket to hang it by their door.  You’d accompanied them home after school with promises of food and a guitar lesson, but it was impossible not to pick up on Toriel’s unspoken hope.  She’d been _dying_ to delve more into your magic, and ever since you told her and Frisk you felt ready, even the teen was having difficulty hiding their impatience.

 

Instantly they started bustling around the apartment, trying not to look too excited while _definitely_ coming off too excited.  You sat down on the couch and waited.  You were willing, sure, but you still had no idea what to expect.  Your uncertainty turned to confusion when Frisk came from their room with an easel, then to amusement when Toriel proudly placed a large notepad on it.  The top of the first page read in colorful print, “What IS Magic?”  Cutesy illustrations of Toriel uttering educational speech-bubbles filled the margins, and the text was written simplistically.  You raised a brow.  This was clearly made for children.

 

“Um,” you started.

 

The Hoepfulls grinned expectantly from beside their presentation.

 

With a resigned little smile, you said, “What _is_ magic, I guess?”

 

“A wonderful question, Anaya!”  Toriel produced an extendable pointer seemingly out of nowhere.  She tapped it to the first bullet-point.  “For monsters, magic is the manifestation of every soul!  It makes our bodies, just as you humans are made of flesh and bone and blood!”

 

You had to cover another snort.  Frisk made a “cut” motion to their mother.

 

“I am…still working on phrasing,” she defended.  “Human biology is unavoidably graphic.  But I digress.  A monster’s composition makes it easy for us to control our magic.  It is instinctual!”  With a flick of her wrist, she produced a little plume of fire.  “It is as natural to us as breathing.  Can you show me how you _breathe?_ ”

 

You stared at her for a moment.

 

“…Keep in mind, you are as of yet our oldest found sorcerer.  By a significant margin.”

 

“I get it, I totally get it, you’re fine.”

 

“Good.  Yes.  Well.”  She flipped the page to reveal a white upside-down heart with word-blocks surrounding it, like a figure in a textbook.  “To understand our magic, we must first understand our _souls_.  Everyone has a soul, human or monster.  It is what we use to feel and think and live.  It is what makes us _us_.”  She paused, her brow scrunching.  “And here I am still uncertain whether it would be appropriate for me to share my soul with the children.”

 

“Appropriate?”  That brought to mind several things you’d felt it was too rude to ask until now.  “Toriel, I was actually wondering—wait is it ok if I ask questions.”

 

“Absolutely!”

 

“Ok, cool.  So.  Back when we first met and I showed you my, um, trick?  You seemed kind of…I guess thrown off.  And now I understand a little bit _why,_ but then when you told me I’m a sorcerer everyone was weird about me bringing out my soul and I’m still not super sure _why_ I couldn’t see your color at first and—”

 

“I apologize if I ever made you uncomfortable,” Toriel interrupted kindly.  You blushed, realizing you were rambling.  “You would not have understood why I was a bit taken aback.”

 

“You were…?  Oh gosh, I _did_ offend you, I knew it, I—”

 

“Anaya, please!”  She leaned down to place a paw on your shoulder, while Frisk smiled over her shoulder encouragingly.  “Some explanation is in order.  In monster culture, a soul, as well as the core of our magic, is very intimate.  Looking at one’s soul without their permission is…well, it is a breach in etiquette, to say the least.”

 

Your stomach dropped.  “Wait.  Crap.  So…so all this time, I’ve been breaking like…a monster taboo?  You, and that little kid, and…aw jeez I’ve been doing this my whole life.”

 

“Children are different,” she quickly reassured.  “As are humans.  It is a bit difficult to explain, I suppose, but typically an adult monster with full control of their magic will only reveal their soul to those closest to them, and even then they may not choose to demonstrate their ‘color,’ as you call it.”

 

“And that,” you interjected, brow scrunched.  “Your soul…it was white, but then it was purple…?”

 

She promptly turned back to her lesson, once again flipping the page.  It was an outline of a monster next to an outline of a human.  The former had another upside-down white heart at its center, with purple surrounding its body like an aura.  The latter had only a bright red heart.

 

“What you have always referred to as one’s ‘color’ is in fact one’s ‘magic.’  This is why you could not discern my color initially.  For one, I was choosing _not_ to reveal myself, and furthermore I was not practicing any form of magic.  Only when one of those criteria is met would my soul have shone purple.”

 

You kept squinting in confusion, until Toriel used that familiar pulling motion before her chest to summon her colorless soul.  With all the new information, you instinctually averted your eyes, muttering, “Uh, didn’t you say that’s…private?”

 

The monster looked perplexed.  “You have already seen me.”

 

“Yeah but that was like…you were trying to make me feel better.”  You didn’t actually feel uncomfortable at the sight of the heart, but were you supposed to?

 

“You are human.  It is different.”  She kept saying that like it should make sense.  “Your soul is always colorful.”

 

“What does that _mean?_ ”

 

Toriel smiled.  “That is an _excellent_ question.” 

 

As if on cue, Frisk flipped the page.  The drawings were now displaying different kinds of magic.  The monster’s soul had turned purple, while the human’s seemed to be glowing and had a large question mark at its center.  You were surprised—somehow, you were playing right into this lesson’s hands.

 

“The history of human magic has been reduced to little more than rumor, but there are prevailing theories.  My belief is that your color means the same as ours—it is your magic.  The visual manifestation of your power.  But for some reason, human souls constantly blaze with magic, despite your inability to wield it.  You are constantly ‘turned on,’ in a way.”

 

Frisk snickered at that, earning a frown from their mother and a muffled snort from you.

 

“Again.  Phrasing.  But you understand my meaning.”  Just as she had when she first showed you her soul, she raised one paw to summon a fireball.  You’d seen this demonstration before, but her explanations finally clicked when at the same time, purple light pulsed out from the center of the white heart.

 

“ _Ooh_ ,” you breathed.  “Oh.  Ok.  I get it.”

 

Toriel beamed.  “The visuals certainly clear things up, do they not?  Perhaps I _should_ show that to the children.  Have any of them ever processed this so quickly?”  The last question was directed at Frisk, who shook their head.  “Hm.  Yes.  I do not know why I hesitated in the first place.  They would not understand the impropriety.”

 

“Impropriety,” you repeated.  “Still not sure if I get that part.”

 

She took a moment to find the words, looking uncertain.  “Well, it is just…it is intimate because…goodness.  This is difficult to explain.  By looking at a soul flippantly, in _public_ no less, well it is…it is not done.  The parents would be scandalized if they knew _you_ had the ability to—that is to say, it is not your fault!  And humans are _different,_ that much is clear but…Oh, dear.”  She seemed a bit flustered.  “There is no simple human comparison, you see.”

 

You were squinting, trying to make your own sense of it.  “So what you’re saying is…it’s like…if I had x-ray vision, and I was using it to look at people’s underwear.”

 

Both Toriel and Frisk froze.  The teen was soon bent double with silent laughter, while their mother murmured, “I had not thought of that.  That…does make sense.  Yes.  Any child would understand.  Quickly, Frisk, write that down.”

 

The rest of the lesson was spent a bit off-track as Toriel started asking you about how to rewrite certain lines, how to make a phrase more child-friendly, whether or not certain aspects of monster culture had human equivalents.  You guessed she hadn’t had many adults to talk to about this, but you were more than happy to contribute.  This was what you’d always wanted to do, after all.

 

Your shift would start soon, but Toriel insisted on feeding you before you left.  She sent Frisk to their room to start on homework while grabbing you a grilled cheese sandwich from the kitchen.  She couldn’t have had enough time to make it, yet it was as warm and gooey as if it had come fresh off the griddle.  _Fire breath_ , you thought happily as you ate.

 

“This truly is exciting for us,” Toriel said, sipping a cup of tea across the table.

 

“Me too.  Sorry if I’m a little slow.  It’s uh…it’s still new, y’know?”

 

“Of course!  We will proceed at whatever pace makes you most comfortable.  And…if we are being honest…”  You could swear she shone a bit pink under her fur.  “I am a bit new to this as well.”

 

You smiled, but your reply was cut off when you heard your message tone.  “Oh.  Um.”  _Don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush._   “Uh, o-one sec, sorry.”

 

“I do not mind, my friend.”

 

***hey**

 

Oh boy.

 

“U-um, wow, would you look at the time, I-I should really start—”

 

***u working 2nite?**

 

“Is it work?” Toriel asked, tilting her head and looking a little too innocent.

 

“Well.  N-no, actually, it’s.  Uh.”

 

***cuz i was thinking**

 

Toriel set down her tea.  “You know, Anaya, I almost forgot to ask.”

 

“H-huh?”  You swallowed, your foot tapping unconsciously.

 

***i could stop by after.  walk u home**

“How was your Halloween?”

 

You froze.  Toriel just smiled pleasantly, but you could see the mischief in her eyes.  Heat crept up your neck as you stood, pushed your hair back, and forced out a nervous laugh.  “It was…fine?  You know I really should—I-I mean, thanks for the sandwich, also the magic…stuff?  But y’know, gotta…”  You were backing away, looking anywhere but at the monster’s almost-amused face.  “Let’s do this again though!  Like, s-soon, this was…good.  Helpful.  Y’know.”

 

“Oh, of course.”  Did she know?  She knew, she totally knew.  How did she know?  “You are always welcome here, my friend!”

 

You could only give a final awkward chuckle before grabbing your jacket and rushing out the door.  At the same time you sent a reply.

 

***Yeah, I’d really like that.**

* * *

 

It was almost ten.  You were nervous.  Were you nervous?  Was that the right word for the mix of impatience and uncertainty and anticipation swirling in your gut?  The restaurant was empty save for a few stragglers, and you were left with nothing to do but watch the clock and think.  You hadn’t seen him since Halloween.  It hadn’t even been two days, sure, but…everything was different, wasn’t it?  Even _you_ were different.  You placed a light hand over your chest as you headed for the coatroom.  You felt your soul thump in response.

 

You remembered the moment you’d parted.  Just as you’d closed your door, you’d fallen back against it and let yourself be overwhelmed by it all.  You’d traced a finger over your lips; you’d breathed in his quickly-fading scent; you’d remembered the way he’d asked, the way he’d looked, the way he’d felt.

 

And then you’d looked at your soul.

 

It had been brighter than you’d ever seen it.  Usually the light was just bright enough to cover your hands, maybe your chest or face, but in that moment it had lit the whole room.  Golden light licked at the walls, illuminating your couch and body and dirty dishes.  You’d stared in wonder for several moments as it hummed before your chest.  It looked so clear, like a film you hadn’t known was there had been washed away.  It looked so healthy.  It looked so colorful.

 

It looked…happy.

 

And you still felt happy.  As much of a mess as your emotions were, that much was prevalent.  You were smiling and nearly shaking as you grabbed your jacket and clocked out.  You clutched your phone.  Your heart was pounding, your words forced and squeaky as you said goodbye to your coworkers.  The door seemed so far away as you walked toward it.  What were you even going to say to him?  Things really were different now, weren’t they?  And you would have to talk about that, address it, and you’d have to be absolutely clear with him.  No dodging.  No assumptions.  That would be step one.  Just be open.  Forward.  You would just walk out that door, greet him like always, make a joke, bring it up.  Be casual.  Be friendly.  Be _normal._   You took a breath, left the restaurant, and…

 

…Oh.  There he was.

 

Sans was watching the door, like he’d been waiting for you to come out.  He froze at the sight of you.  His eyes were wide and focused, his pupils a little too small.  He was blushing.  He wasn’t slouching, his hands weren’t in his pockets, and he didn’t look at all relaxed.  In fact, he looked just as nervous as you were.  And held before him with a shoddy ribbon tied around it was a jar of pickles.

 

“um.”  He tried to grin.  He tried to make it look easy.  “u-uh, hi.  hi there.  nice to…how are…work?”

 

You looked at the jar, you looked at his face, and then you started to giggle.

 

His face cracked.  “oh man.  what?  what did i…?”

 

“Are…are those _pickles_?”

 

“i mean.  i remembered you…like them, so—”

 

“So they’re for me.”

 

“do you…not want them?  cuz i can get something different, or.”  He put a shaky hand on his forehead, his blush deepening.  “oh man.  was i…is it not…aren’t we supposed to give each other gifts?  isn’t that a thing?”

 

You were absolutely falling apart.  You stumbled toward him, clutching your stomach.  “ _Oh my god_.”

 

“paps convinced me.  i thought ‘huh, that’s weird’ but he wouldn’t let me leave the house without _something_ so i—”

 

“You got me _pickles._ ”  You were in front of him, laughing.  Your hands found the front of his shirt.

 

“you _like_ pickles,” he insisted.  His smile was growing as he wrapped one arm around your back.

 

“Why didn’t you warn me?  I would’ve gotten like one of those bulk ketchup-bottles!”

 

“they have those?”

 

Your head rolled forward to rest against his shoulder, muffling your giggles.  He was starting to laugh just as hard.

 

“this isn’t fair.”

 

“What’s not fair?”

 

“ _you’re_ not fair.”  He was shaking with mirth now, clutching you as close as he was able with the jar still between you.  “i had this whole opening planned.  i practiced.”

 

“Are you _serious_?”  You pulled back to grin disbelievingly.

 

“dead serious.  i was gonna start with a joke.”

 

“No.  No way.  You have to say it.”

 

“uh.  it would’ve gone something like…are you a pickle?  cuz you look…heh.  wait.  this is actually bad, oh no.  this sounded so much better in my head.”

 

“Holy shit, _say it_.”

 

“um.  cuz you look.  _cute-_ cumber.  tonight.”

 

You cracked up even more, gasping and wiping tears from your eyes.  “Are you kidding me?  _That’s amazing,_ oh my god.  I would’ve laughed!”

 

“you’re laughing now,” he chuckled.  “also, you do.  you look cute-cumber tonight.”

 

“Oh yeah?  Well you look…you look _brine_.  Get it?”

 

“uh.”

 

“ _Brine_.  Like fine?  And pickles are in…?”

 

He snorted.  You grinned proudly.  His pupils lingered on your smile for a moment, then drifted back to your eyes.  The humor softened into something else, and in an instant you became aware of how close your faces were.  How you’d gone so naturally into his arms.  How this was so, so easy.

 

“Hey, Sans?”  Your voice was quiet, with just a little laughter at the edges.

 

“yeah?”

 

“Can we...or, should we…um.”  You swallowed, flitting your gaze down to his grin then to his eyes.  “Is it cool if we—”

 

He leaned forward just enough for you to feel a tingle against your lips, not quite tangible.  You gasped softly and closed your eyes.  You pressed back briefly, tentatively, and wondered at the way his magic responded to you.

 

Pulling back you breathed, “Um.  Yeah, that.”

 

He laughed and pulled you closer, touching his forehead to yours.  “you know you don’t really…y’know.  have to ask.”

 

“So I can just…?”

 

“yeah.  you can—”

 

You kissed him again.  You felt teeth before pressure, and as soon as he recovered he sent a rush of breath between your lips, an almost-gasp, as his own lips solidified from nothing.  It was so strange, but you didn’t feel any hesitation or discomfort.  His magic was still _him_ , and you wanted more of it.

 

“naya, i…”  He stopped and placed a hand over yours, still rested on his chest.  “are you free…?  at any point?”

 

You were already feeling lightheaded from him, but you managed to reply, “I, uh.  I think so?  Like…yeah.  Friday.”

 

“i wanna take you on a date.”

 

“Ok.”

 

“a real one.”

 

“Ok, yeah.”

 

“dinner and shit.  somewhere nice.”

 

“Ok, ok.”

 

“ok.”  His grin was excited and his pupils were bright.  You had to smile back, breathless and happy as you took the jar with one hand and wove the other with his.  He chuckled and started to walk.  “oh.  so you _are_ taking the pickles.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?”  You looked affronted.  You leaned against him as you went, enjoying the wonderfully familiar feeling of magic filling his sleeve.  “They’re _my pickles._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she owes him ketchup.


	30. Way To Freaking Go Brady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [check out this cute cute CUTE duet](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/149507916454/trash-bag-of-sins-song-world-spins-madly-on-by)
> 
>  
> 
> [also i drew some Pure Indulgence](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/post/149586917764/its-hard-to-make-the-moment-last-hard-to-keep) (which i will just let u know will eventually become canon)

You were pulling off your jumpsuit in the elementary school staffroom when Brady walked in.  It took him less than a second to say, “So how was your date?”

 

You straightened and stared at him.  “Wh…huh?  I haven’t…that’s not til tomorrow?  Or wait no I mean—”

 

“I was talking about _the party_ ,” he laughed.  “But ooh.  Sounds like someone has another _busy weekend_ planned!”

 

“Um.  I…ok, first off Halloween wasn’t a _date_ I was there with my _friends_ and—”

 

“So how long have you two been seeing each other?”

 

“S-seeing?  Who…?”

 

“I gotta say, he’s pretty cute.  Like whenever you’d be like ‘oh he’s a literal skeleton’ I didn’t know how it would work, but color me surprised.  I was all ‘ _dang_ Lonny you’re lucky I love you, cuz _yowza_.’  Little short but a definite yowza.”

 

“Wow.  Alright.  Listen—”

 

“Honestly I was so happy to find out.”  He hadn’t even looked at your stricken face, he just kept prattling on with a grin as he changed clothes.  “I mean, I finally have a monster-boyfriend-buddy!”

 

The “B” word was too much.  Your mouth closed, your cheeks burned, and any defense you might’ve had fizzled in your throat.  Hastily, you grabbed your jacket and rushed to the door, stammering, “Ok yeah I gotta go I have…I have to…launder.  Urgently.”

 

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered!” he cooed in lieu of goodbye.

 

In the hall, you didn’t even have a chance to breathe a sigh of relief before nearly running into Frisk.  You reeled back, still blushing, and hissed, “Jeez, woah, dude, don’t sneak up me!”

 

**You ok?** they asked, tilting their head.

 

“Y-yeah, totally good.  Good good.”

 

Frisk looked confused, but then Brady emerged from the staffroom with his cart.

 

“Have fun on your _date_ , Naya!”

 

You both watched him disappear down the hall, whistling as he went, then Frisk spun on you with a merciless grin.

 

**Sans?**

 

“Frisk.”

 

**SANS?**   They started signing it over and over, glowing with excitement.

 

“ _Frisk_ , shut up!”  You weren’t sure what the ASL equivalent to “shut up” was, but they shrunk their movements while continuing to repeat his name over and over, silently cackling.  “Look, it’s not a big deal, ok?  Don’t tell anyone.  I haven’t told anyone.  I don’t even know if we’re…ok.  It’s…it’s just recent, ok?”

 

“What’s she going on about?”

 

The grating, familiar voice made your stomach drop. 

 

“Are we talking about kill-joy and funny-bones?”

 

You put a hand over your face and groaned, “Oh my god.  Frisk.  _Why is he here._ ”

 

They finally stopped laughing and pulled their backpack around to the front.  They opened it to frown disapprovingly inside, putting a shushing finger to their lips.

 

“What?  Nobody’s _around_ ,” Flowey defended.  He peeked just over the opening to smirk at you.  “Just her.  Being clingy, as usual.”

 

“I work here.”

 

“ _Anyway_.  What’s this I hear about you and chuckles going on a date?”

 

You were mentally strangling Brady.  “Frisk.  You can’t keep bringing him to school, someone’s gonna find out about—”  You fell silent as a younger student walked by with a hall pass, moving to hide the backpack a second too late.

 

“Hiya Miss Naya!  Hi Frisk!  Hi Flowey!”

 

The kid went obliviously on their way.  After several beats of silence, you let out a defeated sigh.  “…Frisk.”

 

Frisk looked chagrinned as Flowey mumbled, “Not my idea.  _They’re_ the one who wants me to practice ‘making friends.’”

 

You narrowed your eyes.  “Look.  I won’t tell your mom, ok?  But _you two_ can’t tell _anyone_ about me and Sans, deal?”

 

“Eugh, so you really _are_ dating?!”

 

“ _Deal_?”

 

**Mom?** Frisk signed with a frown.

 

“Especially not your mom.”  You felt a pang of anxiety at the thought.  She might’ve been your friend, but she was his _ex_.  This was something you couldn’t see yourself opening up to her about.  Even if she’d already picked up on the signs, even if she found out some other way, that was just a universal ticket to awkwardness.  There was no way you’d feel comfortable telling her you were dating—god, _kissing_ —Sans.

 

* * *

 

 

“You seem distracted today, my friend.”

 

Your head popped up from your phone to see Toriel offering you a glass of cider.  You took it with a strained smile, shoving your phone back in your pocket before she could see who you’d been texting.  “Thanks.  And sorry, sorry, I was just.  Um.  Just thinking.”

 

“Oh?”  She settled down in the armchair, like usual.  “About what?”

 

You picked a feather out of the couch cushions distractedly.  “About uh…I mean, all this monster history is super interesting, don’t get me wrong, but.  Am I ever gonna…actually _do_ anything?”

 

Every moment of free time you’d had that week had been spent at the Hoepfull’s, learning about monster culture and how they’d survived underground.  It really was fascinating—you _still_ didn’t understand how they were trapped for so long without any humans realizing—but when you agreed to take magic lessons you thought there’d be more…magic.

 

Toriel smiled patiently.  “Do you feel ready?”

 

You paused.  You focused inward for a moment, realizing that the sense of your soul’s rhythm was becoming easier and easier to find even when you weren’t alone.  “I think so…?  I don’t know.  I’ve only done the one thing, and I still don’t get how.  It was…instinct, I guess.”

 

“That is magic in its most basic form.  Instinct.  It takes time and practice to learn to use it properly.”

 

“So…”  You shrugged hopefully.  “Maybe I should start practicing then?”

 

“Very well.”  Toriel leaned forward, her own glass of cider held in both paws.  “Fire magic is one of the oldest and simplest schools which, incidentally, can make it difficult to control.  Too little and you will conjure no more than a spark.  Too much and it may get away from you.”  She looked down at her drink.  There was a slight glow between her claws, and soon you could see steam curling up from the liquid.  “You begin with heat, and once that is fully understood, you delve further.”  The orange light brightened, sparks popping away from her paws.  The cider started to boil.

 

You’d been concentrating, but now Toriel nodded toward your glass.  You frowned, straightened, and held the cup before you.  It only took a moment of squinting for you to mutter, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

 

“Close your eyes.”

 

You obeyed.

 

“Think of fire, and all it implies.”

 

You frowned and squeezed the glass, murmuring, “It’s hot.  It glows.  Um.  It’s…destructive?”

 

“Yes, but…try to think of it as if…”  You opened one eye to see her looking pensive.  “How shall I put this.  Well.  What type of magic have you been practicing all your life?”

 

“Synesthesia?”

 

“Correct.  Now, when you are performing, what is your thought process?  What comes to mind when you look at a person’s color?”

 

You fell quiet for a moment and automatically found your soul.  Yellow, but not _just_ yellow.  It was a specific kind of sunrise.  It was a dry field in the country.  “I just see…what it reminds me of.”

 

“Yes, excellent!  You do not just see the color, you see what that color _means_ to you.  Now close your eyes again.  Imagine if fire had a soul of its own, and look at _that_.”

 

You furrowed your brow and tried.  This felt different without an actual soul for reference, but you concentrated.  You pictured an orange heart in your mind.  You were met with the same shallow answers, of heat and light and danger, so you asked, “What do _you_ associate with it?”

 

You heard her sigh softly.  “I suppose…home.  I use fire most often for cooking, or occasionally lighting a hearth, or drying laundry, or...oh, goodness.  Listen to me, how dull!”

 

She was laughing at herself, but you understood.  Your eyes were still closed and you were remembering the first time you’d seen her breathing fire, but not only that—you remembered everyone’s excitement as she presented a pie she’d made just for them.  You remembered the fullness and contentment you’d felt eating her food.  You remembered being together with a group of people who were kind and funny and welcoming.

 

You thought of fire.

 

“Anaya, look!”

 

You felt if before you opened your eyes.  Your palms flickered with orange light for just a moment, and you could feel heat without pain burning just beneath your skin.  It dissipated almost immediately, but you still exchanged an ecstatic grin with Toriel.

 

“Very, very well done, my friend!”

 

“I did it!  I—”  Your words were cut off by a sudden rush of dizziness.  You put a hand to your forehead, leaning forward.  “W-woah.”

 

Toriel put a paw on your shoulder.  “Are you alright?”

 

“I j-just felt…really tired, all of a sudden.”

 

Her eyes flickered to your chest, and then she pushed your drink closer and instructed, “Drink.  Your soul has dimmed.”

 

You did, feeling a muted stab of smugness at the fact that the cider was now lukewarm.

 

Toriel scrunched her brow in concentration.  “So even that small of a demonstration depleted you.  Hm…I suppose we will have to be more cautious.”

 

“I’m ok, really,” you assured, feeling the exhaustion ebb as the liquid ran through you.  “Maybe it’s like a muscle, y’know?  I just need to work it.”

 

She nodded, still looking concerned.  “Yes.  Yes, I am sure you are right.  Excuse me for a moment, I must take note.”  She stood and disappeared down the hall—she’d done this anytime she encountered new ideas or information about how to transcribe your lessons to teach her younger students.

 

You felt much less alarmed.  With a woozy smile, you got out your phone to text Sans.

 

***Dude you’ll never believe what I just did**

His reply didn’t keep you waiting long—they never did.  ***is this magic related**

***Heck yes.  Just wait, I gotta tell you in person**

***then u can tell me 2morrow**

***am i still cool 2 pick u up @ six**

***Still temperate.**   Your smile grew, and in a moment of lingering lightheadedness, you leaned back, pulled your phone to your chest and let out a sigh.  Was it the magic making you feel giddier than usual?  Or was that just him?

 

“It is good to see you looking so pleased.”

 

You jumped a bit as Toriel returned—why was it so easy for everyone to sneak up on you?—and blushed.  “Y-yeah, I mean…I’m feeling alright.  About all this.”

 

She smiled and handed you a plate with a few chocolate-chip cookies.  “For your soul.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

You ate in silence for a moment, realizing suddenly that the atmosphere had changed.  Her expression was small and secretive as she sipped at her drink.  You averted your eyes, squeezing your phone self-consciously.  How did she always make you feel like she could read your mind?

 

“You have seemed happier in general, I must say.”

 

You swallowed.  She wasn’t looking at you, but why did this suddenly feel so _weird_?  “Do I…?” you tried suspiciously.

 

“Mm.”  Her face became more genuine.  “The way you found out about your magic was…horrendous, to put it lightly.  Truthfully I had feared that would make this a more negative experience.  But since then you have only grown brighter.”  She smiled, looking first at your chest then your eyes.  “I am happy for you, my friend.”

 

You felt bad for being defensive.  You slumped a bit, feeling a twist of that strange, warm affection you were left with whenever you spent time with Toriel, and you realized something alarming.  You _wanted_ to tell her.  You’d never had someone to disclose the rare sort of happiness you’d found.  You’d never had that kind of friend, who you could gush with and get advice from and who would be excited with you, but…she couldn’t be that friend, could she?  Of all people, it couldn’t be her.  It couldn’t be his ex.

 

“Sans has seemed happy, too.”

 

You froze.  Just like that, panic bloomed inside you.  _She_ does _know._ “Oh.  Oh no, did…did Frisk seriously tell you?”

 

She blinked.  “Tell me what?”

 

The panic grew as you went bright red.  “Um.  Nothing.”

 

She chuckled awkwardly.  “Ah.  Are you alright, Anaya?”

 

Now it wasn’t just about wanting to tell her, now it felt like you were _hiding_ it from her.  “J-just, um.  M-me and…oh jeez.”

 

“Are…are you sure there is nothing wrong?”

 

“Oh man.  Um.  Ok, Tori, so.  Y’know…on Halloween?”  You couldn’t tell if you were having trouble getting the words out or if they were practically spilling at this point.  “When me and Sans sorta wandered off?  Ok.  Um.  We just went and talked for a while but then we went to this park and the sun was coming up and we…”  You ducked your head.  “We…k-kissed?  A little?”

 

There it was.  Too late to turn back now.  You were aghast at how quickly you’d done a one-eighty—you’d gotten so used to keeping secrets over the years, why was it suddenly impossible?

 

“Yes, and?”

 

Your face went slack.  She wore a humored yet confused expression and was not in any way surprised.  Your mind drew a blank.

 

“…We kissed.”

 

“Er, yes.  I would have assumed so.”

 

You just stared at her with your arms slightly open, looking for some kind of reaction.  She continued to look perplexed for a moment before her brows raised, her eyes widened, and her smile fell into disbelief.

 

“Wait a moment.  You mean…you kissed for the _first_ time.  That is what you are saying.”

 

You nodded numbly.

 

“That was the _first time_.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

She placed her paws over her muzzle.  “Oh my goodness.  I had thought…has this not been ongoing?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“You are _certain_?”

 

“Ok look I was afraid to tell you because I know you guys have history and—”

 

“You know about that?!”

 

It was your turn to clap your hands over your mouth.  “Shit—sh-shoot.  I forgot that wasn’t…have we not…was that not a public thing?  Oh no it wasn’t.  What is wrong with me.”

 

“How did you—”

 

“Frisk told me.  They told me _forever_ ago.”

 

She was blushing just as much as you.  “I…will have to have…a _word_ with them, but…why did you not…?”

 

“He doesn’t know I know, and I think he doesn’t know that _you_ apparently know, and I guess I’ve just been dancing around it because Tori, Tori, I’ve liked him for a _really_ long time and I should’ve told you, you have a right to know, we’re friends, but I didn’t want things to be weird between us so—”

 

“ _Oh my god_.”  Toriel was covering her eyes.  “How mortifying.”

 

“I’m so sorry!”  You felt horrible, caught up in this sudden storm of awkwardness.  “I should’ve told you, I’m sorry!”

 

“No, no, oh hell, no Anaya, not you, I am…”  She took her paws away and looked at you helplessly.  “I assumed your relationship with him was common knowledge.  I thought you had been seeing him for…oh, _much_ longer.  But I should not have assumed.  That was wrong.  I am so sorry, dear god.”

 

“You thought…we were _already_ dating?”

 

“I had tried to keep my past with Sans a secret to avoid this.  Because it does not matter, and I did not want you to _think_ it mattered, and I wanted us to just be friends, and I am sorry.  And to think, I have been teasing you about it all this time…”

 

You were both just flustered messes, sitting across from each other and unable to make eye contact, so you felt a little crazed when you started to laugh.  “H-ha…are you kidding?  So you _have_ been teasing me.  And you thought…we were already…”

 

She threw up her hands.  “Of course!  You two are always just _glowing_ around each other, I thought it was so obvious!  When…the hell…will I learn to stop making assumptions?” she groaned, running her paws down her face.  She started to shake with giggles, too.

 

Not for the first time, Toriel looked so much younger than usual, uncertain and imperfect.  You stared at her and shook your head.  “Why…why was I even hiding anything from you?”

 

“Ditto.”

 

You both took a moment to breathe and laugh.  Was this funny?  Or were you just spent from the magic and awkwardness?

 

“But yeah.  I have a date with him tomorrow.”

 

“Oh really.”

 

“So you were right.  I _have_ been distracted.”

 

She chuckled, slouching back and covering one side of her face.  “I mean it when I say it is absolutely _not_ my business.  I really should not have said anything at all.”

 

You rubbed your eyes and groaned, “Pretty sure he still doesn’t know I know.  About you two.  I’m gonna have to do this whole thing again.”

 

“Naya, it _is_ public knowledge.  I was just…I do not know, I had uninformed ideas about how you would react and…ugh.  I tried to hide it.  That was wrong.  I was wrong.  I am sure he will not have as embarrassing of a reaction.”

 

“You’re not embarrassing.”

 

“Oh yes I am, you shush.”  She scowled and made a little flapping motion at you, sending you into another fit of giggles.  Quieter, she added, “And again.  I do not matter.  I have no say in any of this.  But…I am glad it is you.”

 

You blushed again, but this time you felt a rush of warmth along with it.  “Thanks, Tori.”

 

You exchanged warm smiles before falling into a brief, companionable silence, then you murmured, “Oh man…what am I gonna wear…?”

 

Her eyes turned a bit mischievous.  “We could raid Frisk’s closet, if you would like.”

 

And you did, and all the while you felt yet another barrier collapse between you and another person as you told her everything that had excited you for the past couple months.  She made you feel comfortable, she made you laugh, and above all else she made you realize she wouldn’t hold you back.  After all this time of being secretive and nervous about how she would react, it felt so good to have this kind of friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> frisk and flowey are hanging out at a friend's house they don't get any part in this Hot Platonic Bonding Action


	31. Mouth Noises the Entire Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god this took forever to write. this is forever long. hit the showers, mod, gg

You stared at yourself in the mirror with a shaky expression, uncertain if it was too much, too little, or were you overthinking this?  Maybe you should do your hair?  Maybe add some more makeup?  And did this outfit work, would you get cold, did it matter?  You used to care about this stuff.  You used to keep up with fashion, but a lot could change in a few years, right?  It had been hard to find anything cohesive from Frisk’s eclectic wardrobe, and you’d gone purely on instinct when you chose a scarf, a large open sweater, and a pair of boots.  You hoped you looked good.  You were at least 80% sure you looked good. 

 

Why were you psyching out so much about this when you’d seen him nearly every night that week?  You’d _kissed_ him nearly every night that week!  And this was your first date only in name.  You were constantly alone with him, he’d asked you out on Halloween, and who even dates anymore?  Everybody’s just hanging out all the time, casual, just the way you like it, there’s nothing to worry about, nothing stressful about seeing you old pal Sans because he was still your friend, right?

 

_Or is he my—_

You heard a knock.

 

“Ok,” you whispered on your way to the door.  “Ok.  We’re good.”

 

You answered, and you both had to spend a solid three seconds just looking at each other.  Instead of sweats or track-shorts he was wearing jeans, and his worn blue hoodie had been replaced with a leather jacket that looked too long in the sleeves and too small around his torso.  It shouldn’t have surprised you, but seeing that Sans had put just a touch of effort into his appearance gave you a quiet thrill. You met his eyes, matched his awkward, crooked smile, and realized you didn’t need to overthink this.

 

“Hey.”

 

“heh.  hey.”

 

Another second passed before you were wrapping each other in a hug.  It was becoming your standard greeting, a natural impulse.

 

“Hey,” you said again, face pressed into his shoulder.  The leather added wonderfully to his now-familiar scent.

 

“hey hey.”

 

You giggled.  “Hey hey hey.”

 

“wow, enough.”

 

You erupted into full out laughter, pulling away to protest, “I think I have one more in me though!”

 

He made a show of rolling his eyes and sighed, “ok.  last one.”

 

“Hey—”

 

You were cut off by a kiss.  You let out a little noise of surprise before you reciprocated, leaning against him and hanging your arms loosely around his neck.  You’d almost gotten over the sheer act of kissing him— _almost_ being the key word—but you didn’t think you’d ever get over his magic.  He had definite lips, but they weren’t human.  He was tangible, but not consistently.  The solidity of his body faded and firmed with your motions.  Every time your mind strayed to wonder about it, a slight squeeze of his hand or the feel of his breath would bring you back to the moment and remind you to just enjoy him.

 

“O-ok.  Words, um,” you stammered after.

 

“yeah, h-heh.”  You were always relieved to see him looking shy—with his face blue and his grin wobbly, you felt like you were on the same page.  “how about, uh.  you hungry?”

 

You snorted.  “Smooth.  And yes, actually.”

 

To your surprise, Sans offered his arm, and as sweet as the gesture was you had to hold in giggles at the way his already bunched-up sleeve nearly covered his hand.  He seemed to notice your line of vision, blushing and faltering a bit.

 

“heh, i uh…might’ve gone through pap’s closet.  before coming over.”

 

You laughed, linking your arm through his before he could lose any more confidence.  “Dude.  This?”  You gestured to your outfit.  “Frisk’s.”

 

His grin perked back up.  “for real?”

 

“You think I keep ‘date clothes’ on hand?  You think that’s a resource I’ve needed?”

 

He starting leading you down the stairs and chuckled, “guess we’re both outta practice, huh?”

 

“Maybe a little.”

 

You watched his expression soften as he looked at your arms.  He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and glanced away.  “…but really.  ‘out of practice’ is an understatement, so uh.  y’know.  if i do anything _weird_ or…heh.”

 

“H-ha, yeah.”  You fidgeted with the ends of your scarf.  “Ditto.”

 

You got more comfortable the longer you walked.  Soon you were holding his arm in both hands and laughing at his jokes as usual, but “as usual” didn’t begin to cover how you were both acting.  Things were normal and new at the same time.  You were still friendly, but the mutual blushing, the fleeting looks, the way he was trying to stand a little taller, hold you a little closer… _that_ was all new, and very, very welcome.

 

“So yeah, I just sort of…I dunno, synesthesia’d it and boom.  It worked.  I mean, _barely_ , but I still felt it.”

 

“heh.  that’s more than any of the kids back home.  did tori freak out?”

 

“Yeah man, she…”  You trailed off as you rounded a corner and heard a sudden burst of music.  You’d reached a denser part of the city, full of stores and restaurants and active with weekend shoppers.  One crowd was gathered around a disheveled violinist sitting on a curb with a case open before him.  The tune was fast and complicated, scratchy yet precise.  You let out a little sigh of wonder at the sound.

“woah.”  Sans’ eyes were wide.  “what’s…?”

 

“A violin?  Have you never heard one before?”

 

“that’s a violin?” he muttered in disbelief.  “how’s he making it sound like that?”

 

You grinned at the curiosity in his pupils.  “C’mere.”

 

You joined the crowd right as he ended his song.  The next one was just as theatrical, some kind of bluegrass fiddle tune that encouraged everyone who listened to clap along.  You laughed and stomped your feet, but as transfixed as you were, you couldn’t stop watching Sans.  His pupils flitted all over the man, the instrument, the audience.  You could practically see the way he was studying, working out the movements of the bow in conjuncture with his fingers.

 

“he puts the bow _behind_ the wooden thing sometimes.  is he supposed to do that?” he hissed to you at one point.  “it sounds wrong, but it works, y’know?

 

Warmth was building in your chest.  You smiled and leaned against him.  “So you like it?”

 

“yeah.”  When he looked at you he seemed to pause, eyes softening.  “it’s pretty.”

 

The crowd applauded as he took another bow, many of them dropping bills in his case as they went on their way.  Sans gave you a little nudge as he got out his wallet, grabbed a ten, and tipped the violinist once the other listeners dispersed.

 

The performer stopped tuning and squinted at Sans.  You froze, unable to read the man’s expression, but your date didn’t miss a beat.

 

“that was a _bone-chilling_ performance,” he drawled with a wink.

 

As soon as a grin broke through the man’s scruffy beard you let out a breath of relief.  “Good one, man,” he chuckled.  He offered a fist, which Sans bumped casually.  The man nodded toward you and added, “Glad you and your girl like it.”

 

“It was really beautiful,” you said shyly.

 

He gave a subtle tip of his cap.  “Always happy playin’ for nice kids like you.”

 

The warmth in you deepened as you smiled at him, took Sans’ hand, and started walking away.  These rare, kind moments shared with other humans made you happier than you could express.

 

“still hungry?”

 

You beamed, bringing his arm closer and saying, “Definitely.”

 

To your surprise, he stopped at a nearby door with a simple, elegant title mounted overhead.  “Alfaro’s.”  _So he did have something planned_ , you realized.  He held the door for you and gave a silly, sweeping gesture.  “ladies first.”

 

You jokingly splayed a hand over your heart and gasped, “What a gentleman!” 

 

Stepping inside, the lobby was dim, minimalist, and oozed fanciness.  Classical music trickled in from the dining hall, and you spotted several well-dressed customers mulling around by candlelight.  You instantly felt nervous and shabby, but the hostess gave you a reassuring smile when you met her eyes.

 

"Good evening!" she greeted.  "Do you have a reser..."

 

Her eyes flitted behind you and her polite expression died.  Confused, you glanced back, but it was just Sans following you in.  What was she looking at?  He let out a low whistle as he looked around, grinned at you, met the hostess's stare and then...his face hardened.  You glanced between them for a moment, trying to figure out what...

 

...Oh.

 

"Can I help you?"  Her words were low and brisk.  She wasn't smiling.

 

Sans took your hand and approached her podium with a fixed grin.  "yeah.  i got a reservation at seven.  under sans."

 

"Is that so."

 

Your stomach twisted at her tone.  Sans just tightened his fingers through yours and pressed, "yup.  called a few days ago, got the email confirmation and everything."

 

She was looking at a monitor and slowly shaking her head.  "That's odd.  Because I'm not showing anything for a 'Sans.'  Are you sure you have the right place?"

 

His hand buzzed.  You stared at the woman, at her nametag.  "Irene."  You felt a tightness building in your chest.

 

"do you wanna see the email."

 

"I'm afraid if it's not here, there's nothing I can do."  She feigned an apologetic frown, but you could see how much it strained her.  "I can't seat you if you're not on the list."

 

"Can...can I see that?"  You pointed at her little screen, facing away from you.

 

"Afraid not.  Policy."  She shrugged.  She stared you straight in the face, blank and unfeeling.  How could she just...look at you like that?

 

"look."  He placed his phone on the counter a bit too hard.  "there it is.  booked for seven pm."

 

A pair of diners passed you on their way out.  They didn't even try to hide their stares, openly scowling as their eyes traveled up and down Sans' body.  You watched them go and felt the tightness in you turn into heat.

 

"Listen."  Irene's pronunciation became slow and deliberate.  "You aren't on the list.  There's nothing I can do.  So I suggest you—"

 

"Why are you doing this?"

 

She glanced at you, unimpressed by your small, quiet voice.  "Well, you don't have a reservation, clearly.  And we can't even accept unauthorized forms of currency."

 

"you can't take gold, is what you're saying."  Sans' grin was now a grimace, his pupils nearly gone.

 

"Exactly."

 

Sans just let out a rough laugh and shook his head.  His hand was crackling and squeezing and all you could do was stare at Irene.  Her perfect blond bun; her crisp dress shirt; her red lips, almost smirking.  Almost smiling.  Was she trying not to smile?

 

"So is there anything else I can do for you, or...?"  She glanced between you expectantly.  You noticed she couldn't let herself look at Sans too long, the longer stares were reserved for you.  She couldn't even look at him.

 

The lights flickered.

 

Irene glanced up, Sans looked at you.  His hand loosened and his pupils grew as they searched your face.  You blinked a few times, realizing your whole body had been tensed, realizing you'd been forgetting to breath.  The lights returned to normal and you put a hand on your head, feeling your soul's rhythm calm down.  When had it started beating so frantically?

 

"hey," he murmured, just for you.

 

You didn't answer, staring at Irene, who was pointedly ignoring you to bid some customers a cheery farewell.  Oh, she definitely looked smug.  "I..." you started.  "I've lost my appetite.  Let's just go."

 

You pulled him away without another word, trying your best to shut out the way she called, "Have a good night!"

 

"hey," Sans said again once you were out the door.  "hey, naya."

 

You stood frozen for several moments.  Suddenly you were hyper-aware of the people passing on the street, gaping at Sans, staring at you.  You could see the questions all over their faces.  A monster?  In this part of town?  What’s she doing with it?  They all looked away quickly, turned to their companions, whispered.  Oh god, you could practically _hear_ them. 

 

“ _naya._ ”

 

You finally met his eyes, just as yours filled with angry tears.

 

His eyes flickered down for a moment—checking your soul?—and then he put a hand on your cheek.  “you ok?”

 

“How are…”  You refused to cry, but your throat was still closing.  “How come _you’re_ the one asking _me_ if I’m ok?”

 

“your eyes.”

 

Immediately you flinched and put a hand to your face.  You realized how sharp everything looked, despite the evening darkness.  This wasn’t just you being defensive.  As soon as you noticed the difference, it seemed to fade and fuzz at the edges, returning your vision to normal and exhausting you all at once.

 

“A-ah, crap,” you breathed, stumbling.  “Shit, sorry, that was…”

 

He steadied you with both arms.  “hey.  you’re ok, we’re ok, we can…do you need me to take you home?”  You could see the mess in his expression, worry mixed with frustration mixed with a grab at rationality.

 

“No, no, I’m ok, I don’t know why I…I just…”  You scowled back at the restaurant.  “Just…god, how _dare_ she?  I mean, does that happen to you often?”

 

He tried to smile.  “not that much.  not anymore.”

 

You just stared at him for a moment, unable to forget the way Irene’s eyes avoided him, the way _everyone’s_ eyes avoided him.

 

“Hey, Monster-Man!”

 

Sans’ face tensed again as he spun toward the voice, one arm wrapping around you.  The street performer from before was watching you.  He ducked his head and made a beckoning gesture, adding, “C’mere.  You and your lady, c’mere.”

 

You glanced at each other, uncertain, before approaching.  Sans’ stance was defensive.

 

“They kick you out?” he asked plainly, jerking a thumb toward the restaurant.

 

You nodded.

 

“Tch.”  He chuckled and shook his head, rubbing his brow.  “Unbelievable.  Buncha racists runnin’ that shit, man.  You ain’t even the first folks this week.”

 

You weren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this.  You didn’t know how to respond.  “Wh…really?”

 

“Mm-hm.  ‘S been going on ever since I started workin’ this corner and nobody does a damn thing about it.  Woulda warned ya if I knew.  You get stopped by that bitch up front?”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

“Listen.”  He met your eyes for a moment before looking straight at Sans.  “Here’s what you’re gonna do.  Go down a block, take a left, you’re gonna see _Tony’s_.  Tell ‘em what happened.  Tell ‘em Mike sent you.  Got it?”

 

Sans seemed just as thrown off as you, but he nodded.

 

“Dunno what people like that got against nice folks like you, but you’ll get better food, better company, and you won’t pay out your ass for it.”  He turned to you and pointed at Sans.  “And you.  You got a good man here.  Good taste.”  He winked, still looking serious, and before you could think about it you were smiling back.

 

“heh.  um…”  Sans’ guard dropped a bit.  “thank you, uh…mike?”

 

“Don’t thank me.  Just don’t let this get you down and go have a good night, y’hear?”

 

You waved goodbye to him a second time, weaving your fingers through Sans’ and staring at the pavement.  Your mind was drawing a blank.  It wasn’t until you were out of earshot that you could react.

 

“I…I don’t know if I’m still angry, or…” you muttered, putting a hand to your head.  “Or if that made me feel a million times better?”

 

He let out a dry laugh and shook his head.  “i…am…with you there.”

 

“I, um.  I still don’t know…what happened back there.”

 

Carefully, he started, “it was magic.  of some kind.  but…were you trying to do something?”

 

“No, I…I was just mad.”  You slowed to a stop just as you rounded the corner.  Left, like Mike said.  “But I didn’t even notice until we were outside.”

 

He was thinking.  His pupils darted back and forth in silence, until he sighed and looked up at you.  He wore a smile, even if it was a little unsure of itself.  “look.  we can figure this out.  we can talk to tori, and…”  He took your other hand.  “and i understand if you need to call it a night.  sorry that this ended up…heh.  less ideal.”

 

You studied his face for a few moments.  You’d both been so excited for tonight, and it had started out so promising.  You were trying to think of what to say when behind him, a sign for _Tony’s_ caught your eye, complete with a neon slice of pizza flickering beside it.  A smile forced its way through as you said, “You know…I’m still pretty hungry.”

 

A hopeful bit of blue colored his cheekbones.  “yeah?”

 

“Yeah.  Pizza’s sounding awesome right about now.”

 

The relief on his face was enough to make your heart melt, and you couldn’t resist giving him a kiss.  The moment you made contact everything else seemed to melt away.  _Oh,_ you thought, _well that’s better._  

 

The sign led you down a dilapidated staircase, with every inch of the walls covered in graffiti.  You could hear the crowd chattering over loud music within.  The huge, bald, tattooed bouncer at the door almost gave you second thoughts.

 

“sup,” Sans said with a grin.  “so uh…we just came from alfaro’s down the road, but guy named mike told us we should—”

 

“Mike sent you?”  His voice was deep and blunt.  Your courage waned a little more, until the bouncer twisted in his stool, opened the door and boomed, “Hey, Rhonda!  Got a couple here from Al’s!”

 

From inside marched a heavy-set woman with a purple buzz.  A scowl deepened her abundantly-pierced face as she stopped before you.  Taller than you both, she folded her arms and looked down her nose as she growled, “Al’s, huh?”

 

“that’s right.”  Somehow Sans’ smile was wider and friendlier than it had been all night.  “went out for a romantic evening, but the hostess turned out to be a real _pizza-shit_.”

 

The bouncer guffawed, but Rhonda just gave a determined nod.  “Right.  You two.  Inside.”

 

The interior was dim and shoddy, with a clientele that perfectly matched the staff.  One wall was exposed brick and covered with chalk writing—messages and signatures from past customers—while another wall was buried in polaroid pictures.  The tables were tight, the bar was packed, and it smelled incredible.  Already you were forgetting the night’s bumps, because yes, you really were hungry for pizza.

 

“Rich fuckers think they can keep the little people out,” Rhonda was muttering as she led you through the crowd.  “Unbelievable.  Any business is good business, that’s what I say.  You should’ve seen Tony when we first got some folks sent from over there.  Had to talk him down from _that_ ledge.  Right.  Here we go.  Sit.”

 

She’d brought you to a booth that was at least somewhat removed.  You still had no idea what to think as you sat and stared up at Rhonda, but you stammered, “Um, th-thanks, this is really…cool of you, uh.  Thank you.”

 

“Not another word, missy.”  Rhonda put up a hand, looking borderline furious.  “It ain’t right.  It ain’t Christian.  You see that?”

 

You followed her gesture to a cluster of photos.  They all depicted her and a large man in an apron—Tony?—shaking the hands of various monsters.  Everyone was smiling.

 

“Never met a friendlier bunch than you monsters.  Good tippers, too.  So you want a pitcher?  Free refills.  On us.  Tony insists.”  Her frown suddenly sharpened and she slammed her hands on the table, squinting right at Sans.  “Unless you’re underage.  He card you at the door?”

 

He casually whipped out an ID and said, “must’ve slipped his mind, but we’re not big drinkers anyway.”

 

She glanced at his card, reached for yours and said, “Coke it is.”  Then she slapped the IDs down and disappeared into the crowd.

 

And just like that, she was gone.  You were left reeling.  That had all happened so fast, and while Sans seemed perfectly at ease, you were still processing the whiplash-inducing change of circumstances.  Kindness then cruelty then _more_ kindness…after everything, this was the final straw that brought tears falling down your cheeks.

 

Sans was equal parts concerned and confused when you started sniffling.  “woah, hey, are you—”

 

“There’s just…all these _good people_ ,” you forced out, wiping your eyes.  “Sorry, sorry, I’m not sad.  I’m totally not sad, I’m ok, Jesus.”

 

He laughed and hugged around your shoulders.  You laughed too, if a bit tearfully.  You wondered if your magic had anything to do with you being so all over the place emotionally.  But this was ok.  Things had turned out ok.

 

Dazed, you pulled your card back toward you, taking a moment to realize you’d grabbed Sans’ by accident.  You blinked down at it, did a double take, and your jaw dropped open.

 

“Hey, Sans?”

 

“naya.”

 

“This…this is your real, ID, right?”

 

“sure is.”

 

It was different from a human’s, almost like a green card, and there beside a picture of his sleepy grin was his name.

 

“Is this a typo.”

 

His face cracked.  He looked almost proud.  “nope.”

 

You dropped the card, covered your face, and started to shake with laughter.

 

“what?  something wrong?” he asked, clearly delighted.

 

“Your name is fucking _Sans Sans?_ ”

 

He started laughing too, and whatever anger or outrage or embarrassment you’d felt earlier was just background noise.  You leaned on him, gasping, as he explained, “well monsters don’t always use last names and when we got residency we had to fill out the forms so—”

 

“So you were too lazy,” you snickered, “to think up a last name!”

 

“never needed one before.”

 

“But _Sans Sans_?!  Is it Papyrus _Sans_?!”

 

“no, no, his is better.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“last name papyrus, first name ‘the great.’”

 

You fell to pieces, and that was it.  For the rest of the night you could hardly catch your breath from laughing.  The pizza was delicious as promised, and Sans was shockingly at home among the rough and tumble diners.  People would often approach your table to introduce themselves, shake his hand, tell you stories of the monster friends they’d made.  He would make jokes in turn, charming everyone, and all the while you just watched him and smiled.  Your hand stayed in his.  He’d occasionally shift to be closer to you.  When hours had passed and the night was winding down, your head drooped to his shoulder.  The scent of leather and the gentle hum of magic soothed you, and even surrounded by the drunken cacophony, your focus automatically drifted inward to the calm, gentle rhythm of your soul.  It felt content.  _You_ felt content.

 

“babe, wake up.”

 

You didn’t realize you’d nodded off until Sans was shaking you softly.

 

“we gotta sign the wall.”

 

“Right, shit.”  Your tired grumbling made his smile bright and tender.

 

He handed you a piece of chalk and found a bit of bare brick above your table.  “what’re we saying?”

 

You thought for a second, yawned, and wrote, **Fuck Irene –Naya**

 

Laughing, Sans took the chalk and added, **thx mike –sans** , and added a heart surrounding the two messages.

 

You took a picture of your masterpiece and headed for the door.  Rhonda and the infamous Tony, finally having emerged from the kitchen, stopped you in front of an old polaroid.  It was the first time you saw the intimidating woman smile all night.  They gave you each a hug and a copy of the photo, told you to keep your chins up, and bid you goodnight.

 

The walk home was quiet, almost surreal.  You had your arms around each other’s waists and your pace was slow.  It felt like you arrived at your apartment far too soon.  Had he taken a shortcut?  Or had you just lost track of the time?

 

“So.”  You hung at the door.  “That wasn’t so bad.”

 

“yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”  You turned and wrapped your other arm around him.  You didn’t want to go, as sleepy as you were.  “Thanks.  For tonight.”

 

He snorted.  “sorry it started out…heh.”

 

“No, hey, no, that was just…she was just some asshole, y’know?  One mean person among like…like _so_ many nice ones.”

 

“yeah.  yeah, you’re right.”  His fingertips dug into your back and made your stomach twist sweetly.  “good first date?”

 

“Good.”

 

Silence, then you met his eyes.  They were bright, glowing in the darkness and bearing into you and…you were kissing him.  Holding the sides of his skull, pulling him closer, closer, as close as you could.  You weren’t rushed or desperate, you were slow, tender, you took your time and you _enjoyed_ him.  You moved, or he moved, you couldn’t tell, and then he was against the wall with his hands on your hips.  You sighed against him; he gasped back.  His magic grew steadily warmer against your lips and then you felt something else.

 

You tensed, but you didn’t flinch.  You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes questioningly.

 

“Tongue?” you managed, still breathless.

 

“sorry, is that—”

 

You kissed him again, more carefully this time, and after a moment of hesitation you felt it again.  Inhuman, like his lips.  Like everything about him.  A mix of curiosity and the boiling in your stomach made you advance your own tongue.  The quiet, aching sound he made in response nearly made you forget yourself.

 

You pulled away.  You could hardly breathe, your hands traveling to his shoulders and his still gripped your sides, shaking.

 

“you ok?”  The question had a hint of laughter to it.

 

“M-maybe?  H-ha ha, um.”  You put your forehead on his and squeezed your eyes shut.  “Ok we’re uh…gonna need to take this slow, y’know?”

 

“yeah.”  He sounded just as winded.  “yeah.  yeah, i getcha.  slow.”

 

“Nice and easy.”

 

“right.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

You pulled him to you before you knew what you were doing, clutching him and kissing him for another solid thirty seconds before breaking away.  You were talking more to yourself when you reiterated, “Slow.”

 

His blush lit his entire face.  His grin was just as bright and his pupils were dilated.  “i really, really like you, naya.”

 

And as his lips met yours you resigned to telling yourself, _Slow can wait for just one night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have never been prouder of a thing than i am of Sans Sans


	32. Pun Game WEAK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god i've made you people wait forty years.
> 
> [check out some arts](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/tagged/my-art)

When you told Toriel about your strange episode with Irene, she promised to do as much research as she could on real accounts of human magic.  With such an abundance of fiction and superstition to sift through, it would be an understandably daunting task.  So you supposed that explained her absence from the usual Sunday get-together, and honestly, the goggles, gloves and helmets you were donning probably wouldn't have fit her anyway.

 

"PAINT-BALLING SOUNDS MUCH SAFER THAN LAZER TAG," Papyrus said, eyeing a group of paint-splattered teenagers.  "ALL THIS ARMOR HARDLY SEEMS NECESSARY."

 

"Um.  I d-don't know, Papyrus..."  Alphys was looking at Undyne and Frisk, who were by far the most excited, dressed in baggy clothes and cackling.  Clearly they knew what to expect.

 

And so did you.

 

"you gonna be ok?"

 

Sans raised a brow at your tense expression, pulling on a pair of sturdy gloves.  You liked the way he looked in protective gear.  You liked him in everything.  You liked him.  Wow, had that fact always been so distracting?  You forced yourself not to stare, and hoped your body language wasn't being as annoying as your brain.

 

"I've never done this before," you admitted.  "But I've heard horror stories."

 

"oh yeah?"

 

"I knew a kid who lost his eye paint-balling."

 

He snorted, half amused, half startled.  "um, what?  really?"

 

"Well I mean.  Ok, maybe...maybe that was an exaggeration, but he had a _super_ bad black eye."

 

Chuckling, he stepped closer and brushed his hand against yours.  You blushed and glanced at the others.  They weren't paying attention to you two, and...they still didn't know, right?  Unless they'd _all_ been making assumptions like Toriel.  Oh god, they probably were.  Better not to think about that.

 

"it's ok," he assured, meeting your eyes.  "i'll take a _bullet-ton_ for you if i gotta."

 

"A...a bulletin?"

 

"bullet-ton.  like skele...y'know what, comedy is all about trial and error."  He grinned while you snickered, but in a low voice he added, “but seriously.  is this dangerous?  cuz i feel like humans do a weird amount of dangerous stuff for fun.”

 

“Valid point.  And nah, I’m sure it’s fine, just might sting a little.  I think it’s just the anticipation I’m afraid of,” you reassured.  Your fingers linked with his out of the others’ view.  Your expression faltered a touch as you remembered the past couple nights, the way your soul had been reacting to emotion lately, and what Toriel was up to while you were off with your friends.  “But um…do you think it’s ok that I’m nervous?”

 

“yeah, of course.”  He searched your face.  “why wouldn’t it be?”

 

“I mean.  Last time I was scared of something, I uh…y’know.  Things got a little…funky?”

 

His pupils flitted to the others, who were joking around obliviously, before he squeezed your hand and tapped the front of his helmet against yours.  “i don’t think we gotta worry about funkiness.  not with all of us together.  you, me, those guys, it’s, uh…it’s a safe place.  when you’re with us.  right?”

 

You smiled.  “Yeah, that’s true.”

 

“plus tori’s figuring things out.  you’ll become a funkmaster in no time.”

 

“Pft.  Oh good.  Always wanted to be a funkmaster.”

 

“who wouldn’t?”  He gave a little press of his forehead while you giggled, then he raised a hand to your head and remarked, "that helmet's lookin’ a little loose.  here."

 

He turned you around to fiddle with the helmet's straps.  You brushed your hair out of his way and had to resist shuddering at his fingers making occasional contact with the back of your neck.  He was making it hard to be subtle.

 

Frisk finally seemed to notice you, catching your attention with a wave.  Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys weren't looking, but the teen wore a horrible grin as they waggled their eyebrows and made kissy faces at you, bringing you right back to the present and your silly, embarrassing insecurities.  _Oh god that’s right,_ you thought, your heart sinking.  **_They_** _know._

 

You jumped a bit when Sans said, "there, better?"

 

"Yup.  All better."

 

He tilted his head, pupils flicking between yours.  “you sure you’re good?”

 

He was always checking on you.  He was always just making sure.  You doubted you’d ever be used to that, the clear tenderness in his expression he wasn’t even trying to mask.  There was a moment of looking at him, separated by goggles and a mouth guard and yet still wanting to lean forward and disregard the feeling of Frisk's silent cackles aimed straight at you and just...

 

"C'mon you two, you're holding us up!"

 

A jump, an awkward laugh, and then you were following everyone else into the briefing area, not quite holding hands.

 

You spaced out as the attendant went over safety instructions, and after Frisk had served as a reminder, it didn’t take long for your mind to consider the questions you hadn’t had the courage to ask yet.  Sans still hadn't said anything about what you were calling...this.  You hadn't laid down any ground rules, hadn't hashed out the details, because whenever you were with him none of that mattered, and you were left to fret about it when you were alone.  So how much were you allowed to show?  What could you do around your friends?  Should you _not_ hold hands?  Should you _not_ be public?  And how on earth would you ever broach the subject of that big, weird word that started with a B...

 

"Alright, everybody got it?"

 

You snapped out of your thoughts as your friends answered with various levels of enthusiasm.  You hadn't paid attention at all.

 

"Wait, what do we--"

 

The gates to the course opened, and your friends all dashed off like they knew exactly what to do, crouching amid hay bales and piles of paint-spattered junk.  You were frozen for a moment, clutching your gun, but then he was there.  He took your hand as easily as ever and gave you a questioning look.

 

You blinked a couple times.  "I...I missed all of that."

 

He led you in with a laugh, explaining, "we take out the other team.  you get hit, you raise your gun and come back over here."

 

"Oh.  Oh that's easy."

 

“OF COURSE IT IS!”  Papyrus came out of nowhere to clap you on the back.  “IF YOU’RE ON OUR TEAM, THERE’S NOTHING WE CAN’T ACCOMPLISH!  AFTER ALL, SKELETONS ARE RENOWNED FOR THEIR PAINTBALLING PROWESS.”

 

“that’s right, bro.”  Sans tossed you a wink.  “skeleton fact numero-uno:  we rock at paintball.”

 

A pretty bold statement it turned out, as Undyne instantly proved herself to be a terror with a gun.  She took out both Sans and Papyrus the moment they stepped out from their hiding place.

 

“Ha HA!” you heard her boom.  “This is payback for LAZER-TAG!!”

 

“welp.”

 

“OH, IT IS _ON_ , YOU VERY-COOL-PERSON YOU!”

 

“Ok, I knew you were being facetious,” you grumbled as the brothers raised their guns, “but _come on_.”

 

“A TRUE WARRIOR LEARNS FROM DEFEAT, SO BY THAT LOGIC, THE MORE WE LOSE THE BETTER OFF WE’LL BE!” Papyrus tried to reassure.

 

Sans just gave a lazy shrug, but as he passed you on his way back to the starting point, he brushed a hand over your back and said, “you got this, nye-nye.”

 

Again, a bold statement.  The bad news was that the opposing team won before you’d even fired a shot, but the good news?  Way less painful than you’d expected.

 

The others popped out of their hiding places.  “We SMOKED you clowns!” Undyne whooped, squatting down to grab Frisk in one arm and Alphys in the other for a victory lift.

 

“Y-you’re the only one who shot their gun, honey…”

 

Approaching you, Sans winced at the paint splattered on your sleeve.  “yikes.”

 

“You did this.”

 

“heh.  yeah, uh, sorry for _balling_ out on you.”

 

“…Like.  Bailing, right?  You mean bailing?”

 

“wow i am just not landing them today am i.”

 

You laughed and gave him a playful nudge, at the same time rubbing the spot on your arm you were sure would bruise.  But despite the loss…that was fun.  Even getting shot was fun.  You found yourself looking forward to the next match as Papyrus spouted smack-talk that lacked any actual smack.  Narrowing your eyes, you said, “We’re here to land shots, not jokes.”

 

Sans snorted in delight.  “wow.  alright.  comeback time.”

 

You and the skeleton brothers split up for the next round, and despite the chorus of gunshots and Undyne’s cackling, you managed to survive from one hideout to the next.

 

“Phew.  Ok.  You guys ok?” you called out, already feeling an adrenaline-high setting in.

 

“STILL ALIVE!”

 

“yup.”

 

“Ok.  Ok.  Ok-here-we-go—” 

 

Still in a crouch, you spun yourself around a corner, only to come face to face with Frisk.  They’d chosen the very same hiding place.

 

“SH-shoot, jeez, oh man,” you blurted, instinctively raising your gun.  They stared.  You paused.  “Wait.  Wait, no, dude, I’m not gonna shoot you point blank, that’d hurt, let’s just—”

 

A blink, then they slowly, deliberately cocked their gun.

 

“Frisk, no, _Frisk—_ ”

 

You heard a pop, saw them jerk forward, and then their face slumped in a defeated grimace as they turned around to reveal a fresh splattering of paint on their back.  You looked over their shoulder.  Sans was grinning and shrugging casually from a nearby vantage point, gun aimed at Frisk.

 

“ _bones_ -eye.”

 

Frisk’s face contorted in rage as you burst out laughing, but it only took a second for a revenge-ball to color Sans’ chest.

 

“That’s what you get for making STUPID puns,” Undyne barked from somewhere.

 

“eh.  that’s fair.”

 

“Oh my god,” you said to Sans as he headed back to the start, “you really _did_ take a bulletin for me.”

 

“don’t let my sacrifice be in _vain-t_.  you know.  like pai—”

 

“Yeah, like paint, got it.”

 

You managed to make the round stretch out a little longer, but after you were taken out by a surprise shot from Alphys, Papyrus was left on his own.  He put up a good fight.  He managed to hit the scientist, but the ensuing victory dance left him wide open for a final blow from Undyne.  Truly, she was an unstoppable force.

 

“Ok I want to be on Undyne’s team,” you said at the start of the next match.

 

“oh i see how it is.”

 

Undyne and Frisk were laughing while you gave Sans a blunt look and said, “I want to win.”

 

“and after i took a bulletin for you.”  He shook his head in shame, but the flirty glint in his eyes kept the grin on your face.

 

“Why do you dweebs keep saying ‘bullet’ wrong??”

 

“DO NOT QUESTION THEIR WEAK PUN-GAME,” Papyrus told Undyne.  “IT IS WHAT MAKES THEM SUCH A PERFECT… _PEAR._   NYEH HEH!  LIKE THE FRUIT!  AND _THAT_ IS HOW ONE CRAFTS A PUN!”

 

Perfect pair?  Did they see you two that way?  You tensed, suddenly remembering that oh my god, you were dating Sans, you were supposed to be _thinking_ about that, you were supposed to be _aware_ and weren’t you supposed to be _secretive_ and wouldn’t it be awkward if your friends _knew_ and—

 

“Alright, alright.  Al-pal, switch with Naya.”

 

Alphys jumped.  “W-what?  Why me?”

 

Undyne grinned and stooped down to her level, knocking their helmets together lightly.  “Cuz I think it’d be cute to go up against each other!  Like…like, who’re the dumb kids?  The ones from the play?”

 

“R…Romeo and J-Juliet…?”

 

“Yeah, right, like them!”

 

So you and Alphys switched, and somehow, that seemed to level the playing field.  The ensuing matches lasted longer as each of you got more used to the feel of the gun, the environment, and started getting into the friendly competition.  You managed to land a shot on Papyrus, much to your delight; you dodged a few well-aimed bullets from Alphys; and Sans…

 

Well.  Sans was distracting you.

 

Every exchange you shared left you wondering, _Does this look suspicious?_   Because the more you let yourself get lost in the game, the more your reservations dropped.  You’d deliberately go after him, laugh when he’d dodge your shots, pout dramatically when he hit you.  You were forgetting to check yourself.  You were flirting, no doubt about it, and whether or not the others noticed was starting to lose its importance.

 

At one point, you both wound up in the same hiding place.  You were breathless from exertion and surprise, and the cover wasn’t exactly spacious, and he was really close, and he still looked great in protective gear…and you needed to ask.

 

“Hey Sans,” you panted.

 

“yeah?”

 

“Are you my bo—”

 

“ENGARD!!”

 

You heard a shot.  Your head spun around at Papyrus’ voice, startled while in a vulnerable place both physically and emotionally, and you shouldn’t have been able to make out the bullet speeding toward you, but you could.  It was slow and sharp.  Everything was sharp.  Your ears were full of pounding.  Sending the bullet in a different direction mid-air was just instinct.  It almost happened on its own.

 

Whoops.

 

“ _shit_ ,” you heard Sans hiss.  You whipped your head back and down.  There, hidden between your body and his, was your soul.

 

“HEY, NO FAIR!” Papyrus was scolding.  “USING MAGIC IS CHEATING, SANS.  SHE’S NOT EVEN ON OUR TEAM!”

 

Your eyes shot between Sans and the yellow heart.  He looked helpless.  Everything was still so loud and clear.  In a panic, you tried to physically shove it back in your chest, but after moving it a bit your hand just phased through, like always.  You gasped from the feel of it.  Sans braced you with one arm.

 

“S-seriously?  Did Sans just use m-magic to save Naya?”  Alphys sounded excited.  “Sweetie, did you hear that?!”

 

“D’aw!  Looks like we’re not the only Homeo-Julie situation here!”

 

Frisk chimed in with a wolf-whistle.

 

You weren’t processing any of it.

 

“breathe,” Sans was whispering, quiet enough that only you could hear.  “you’re ok, you’re with us.”

 

“It’s not that, I’m not scared, it just _happened._ ”  You were moving your hands around your soul frantically.  Adrenaline was still pumping through you.  “Fuck, how do I get it to—?!”

 

“you don’t know?”

 

“It always just goes back on its own!”

 

“Alright, love-birds, we ARE still playing here!” Undyne guffawed.

 

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a few steadying breaths.  _Come back.  It’s ok.  Come back.  Come back_.

 

“SANS!  NAYA!  THERE WILL BE TIME FOR CANOODLING LATER!”

 

Sans watched you try desperately to rein it in for a few more moments, then with a soft curse he grabbed your arm and raised your gun, lifting his at the same time.  “whoops, h-heh,” he called out.  “we’re out.  avenge me, paps.”

 

“Oh come on, REALLY guys?  You can’t wait til the end of the match to sneak off together??”

 

“Wow.  I d-didn’t realize it was this b- _bad_.”

 

They continued to laugh and jeer, but while Sans met their teasing with an easy grin, he was careful to shield you and your soul from view on your way out of the course.  It wasn’t until you were safely alone in the briefing area that his expression tensed.

 

“ok, i don’t think they saw.”

 

“I c-can’t get it to…I don’t know why it won’t—”  Finally and with no fuss, it seeped back into your chest, leaving you feeling unchanged other than a slight sleepiness behind your eyes.  “Oh sure, _now_ you listen to me.”

 

“what was…”  Sans watched your chest for a few more seconds, as if he was worried it would pop back out.  “why did…?”

 

“I honestly don’t know.  I wasn’t scared, I swear.  And I wasn’t mad.  I don’t know why else it would’ve…I don’t know.”  If anything, you were frustrated.  Sometimes it didn’t feel like your soul was actually _you_ —it was like this separate, disobedient entity you were still getting to know.

 

“but you…the bullet.”

 

“Yeah.  I don’t know.  Things got…they got a little funky.”

 

He was thinking.  He looked a bit frustrated, too.  “i guess.  we’ll just…tell tori.”

 

“I’m sorry I can’t…”  You sighed, plopping down on a bench.  “Sorry I don’t know how to—”

 

“hey.”  He sat down next to you and put a hand on your shoulder.  “it’s not you.  don’t apologize.  it’s not like…you don’t have any intentions behind it.  i mean, you’re not…”

 

“Dangerous?” you supplied glumly.  You couldn’t stop yourself from remembering what you’d wanted to do to Irene, what you _had_ done to Cody.

 

“woah.  no.  i wasn’t gonna say that.”  He took your other shoulder and turned you toward him firmly.  “of course you’re not.  have you been worried about that?”

 

“Not…always…?”

 

He kept you fixed with that searching look, until you groaned and took off your helmet, running a hand over your eyes.

 

“It’s just…I mean, ok, it’s occurred to me.  Because think about it.  All the times I’ve used magic, has it ever been a good thing?  I tossed a dude into a wall.  I got pissed at some lady, I don’t even know _what_ I would’ve ended up doing.  Even the synesthesia thing is apparently this huge breach of privacy and…ugh.”

 

Softening, he released you to remove his helmet and then open his arms.  An offer.  You took it after a second of hesitation, letting your head find its usual place in his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you.

 

“you weren’t doing anything wrong,” he muttered into your hair.  “honestly, i don’t wanna think about what would’ve happened if you _didn’t_ have magic.”

 

“I…yeah.  Ok, yeah.  I just…man, I just wish I knew how to use it.  I swear I don’t know what happened just now.  And it’s driving me nuts.”

 

 

“hm.  well maybe…maybe it was just a reflex.”

 

You scrunched your brow.  “You think?”

 

His grip on you loosened.  You pulled back a bit to look at his face, at the cogs turning in his gaze.  “actually, yeah.  when you look at all the evidence…it’s always just been reaction, right?  self-defense.”

 

“Kinda…?  But with Irene it was just…”  You trailed off, eyes widening.  “…Oh.  Not self-defense, but…she was being an ass to _you_ , so…”

 

His face was brightening.  “yeah.  yeah, it would make sense, even if it’s not consistent with known magic theory…maybe with a few tests we could…”

 

You snorted.  “Tests?”

 

He chuckled and squeezed you tighter, promising, “we’re gonna get this figured out, babe.”

 

“Oh.”  You blushed.  He’d called you that once before, but you’d been too sleepy to react properly.  Now you felt a strange rush of pleasure and nerves rush through your whole body, making you tense.

 

“uh.”  He must have noticed.  His arms dropped a bit and his voice lost confidence as he reiterated, “i mean.  whatever you want to be…j-just naya, or—”

 

“Sans.”

 

“h-heh, yeah…?”

 

He was going blue as you drew back with a determined expression, and you didn’t give yourself time to doubt when you asked, “Are you my boyfriend?”

 

He looked thrown off, staring at you for a moment.  The doubts and anxieties were like muffled screams in your mind while you waited for an answer.  Your expression remained fixed.  You were both frozen and silent and blushing until…

 

“um.  did i not…make that clear…?”

 

It felt like your mind let out a sigh of relief, letting go of whatever stupid worries you’d had as you just grinned at him. 

 

He still looked a touch confused.  “heh, um, no but really, i thought that was pretty—”

 

You threw your arms around his neck and cut him off.  Of _course_ it was clear, you were just an idiot, but now you _knew_ and it felt so good and you felt so young and giddy and there was nobody else around so what was to stop you from turning you head and finding his lips and…

 

“OH MY GOD??”

 

“HA, I freaking KNEW it!!”

 

“Oh my god _honey_ oh my god are you seeing this oh my _god_ —”

 

You tore away from him, bright red and gaping at your friends like a deer in the headlights.  Frisk was trying to physically hold themself together as they descended into a laughing fit.  Papyrus was bug-eyed.  Undyne and Alphys looked beside themselves with joy, clutching their cheeks and bouncing up and down and squealing together.

 

You turned your wide eyes back to Sans, who would have looked perfectly at ease if it weren’t for the glow on his cheekbones.  With one arm still around your back, he drawled, “oh hey guys.  when’d you get here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Al-pal? y'know? like gal-pal? because they're lesbians? they're gay together and both girls? ur hurr hurr hur, thinking my pun game is weak, little do you know


	33. Frisk Has Had a Crush on Every Monster at Some Point and That Is Canon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short lil chapter for all the shorties out there, peace and love to all our lil friends, peace and love to all

Toriel was noticeably absent the next day at school, a fact that had you anxious considering how worried she'd been when you and Sans had filled her in on the latest edition of "What Weird Shit Can Naya's Soul Do."

 

"Is she ok?" you asked Frisk at lunch.

 

With a mouthful of sandwich, Frisk shrugged and moved their hand in a so-so motion.

 

"Aw jeez," you sighed.  "Is it...I mean...does it have anything to do with funky stuff?"

 

You'd told Frisk everything too, of course, after a painfully embarrassing drive home from paintballing with all your friends.  Sans had been a master at deflecting their teasing and making your now-public relationship out to be no big deal, thank god, but you still cringed at the memory of Papyrus' cries of "I KNEW IT," Undyne's relentless demands for "deets," and Alphys' musings about a "ship name."  They'd unanimously decided on Sanaya, and you hated the fact that, if you were being honest with yourself, you kind of liked it.

 

Frisk swallowed, got out their notepad and wrote, **Well she took a few days off to do some research.  But uh.  It's not going great.**

 

"Really?"

 

**It's just hard to find real stuff.  There's so many stories.**

 

"Yeah, yeah I can see that."  You felt bad.  She was doing all this for you, trying to figure out your problems, while you were just living your life like normal.  Well, not normal.  Having your boyfriend wake you up every day with a good morning text was awesome, but definitely not normal.  "Is there anything I can do to help?"

 

Frisk shrugged.  **You could ask.**

 

"Yeah, you're right, I should...Ok, yeah.  I'll come over tonight."

 

**You sure?**

 

You gave them a questioning look as they put down the notepad and went back to eating.  They weren't making eye contact, but you could see the hint of a smile building.  "Uh, yeah?  Why wouldn't I be?"

 

**Busy tonight?** they signed.

 

"Busy?  No, I'm...what're you...?"

 

They were forming letters, slowly, and by the time they were done that sly smile had finally cracked and you were covering the hot blush breaking over your cheeks.

 

"Oh my god, that _stupid name._ "

 

**Sanaya, Sanaya, Sanaya!** they kept signing, laughing and bringing their hands obnoxiously close to your face.

 

"You guys are the _worrrst,_ " you groaned.

 

They were picking the notepad back up to scribble, **Not my fault you started making out right in front of everybody.**

 

"I didn't know you guys were—!  Ok, we were not _making out,_ and I would thank you to—"

 

They didn't stop writing while you defended yourself.  **How does that even work without lips?**

 

"He does have—"  You clapped your hands over your mouth, blush deepening.  "Ok, no, woah, this is none of your business."

 

**It's cool I totally get it.**

 

"Holy crap, _enough_."  You started trying to wrestle the notepad away, but they were evasive.

 

**The date with him was my favorite part.**

 

"Date?  What're you—"

 

**He's hot.**

 

" _Frisk._   No, that's totally inappropriate, he's, like, thirty years older than you, don't be gross."

 

**He's 29.**

 

"Yeah, that's _at least_ fifty years too old for you.  For real dude."

 

The bell rang right when you finally managed to yank the notepad from their hands, but at that point you were both giggling.  With a dramatic eye-roll, you returned it and shook your head, sighing, "Why'd you guys have to give it a name?"

 

**Romantic,** they signed, batting their lashes before skipping off to line up with their classmates.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When you walked into the apartment with Frisk, you feared that "not going great" might have been an understatement.  Open books and loose documents littered every surface.  There were dirty dishes on the table, something you thought was an impossibility under Toriel's watch.  The general feeling of clutter was, to put it lightly, out of character, and the look you shared with Frisk showed you they'd been thinking the same thing.

 

"My child?  Is that you?  I am off to the library, I believe I may have found...oh, well, we will see if it bears fruit."  She bustled out of the kitchen, rummaging through a purse distractedly.  She jumped to see you standing there.  "Oh!  Goodness, Anaya, I was not expecting you!"

 

"Hi, yeah, sorry, I was here to...um."  You scratched your neck, sweeping a pointed glance around the living room.  "How, um.  How's everything going with the uh..."

 

"Oh.  Right.  Well.  You know how... _fanciful_ human accounts can get," she tittered, trying and failing to hide her exasperation.

 

"Yeah, totally.  Do you, uh.  Need any help, or...?"

 

She paused, looking for a moment like she might take you up on the offer, but then she slapped on a smile and dismissed, "Oh no, no, it is alright my friend!  I do not want to trouble you!  And I was just on my way to the library, you see, to pick up more..."  She gestured to a stack of books.  "Material."

 

"Tori, you sure you're...?"

 

Frisk gave their mother a concerned frown and signed something.

 

She glanced between you for a moment.  She closed her eyes and sighed.  "Well.  I suppose it might be helpful if you would, ah.  Make Frisk dinner?  Perhaps help them with their homework...?"

 

You let out a short breath, giving her a smile and saying, "Yeah, of course.  We'll hang out tonight."

 

Frisk went from concerned to excited as Toriel let herself relax.  "Thank you, my friend, I truly appreciate it."

 

"It's no problem," you assured.  As Frisk left to put their backpack away and before she went out the door you added, "And, uh, Tori...?  If this gets too tiring, you don't have to—"

 

"Thank you."  She stopped you with an honest smile.  "And I promise I will tell you what I have found.  Just put your faith in me!"

 

She left, and you turned to see Frisk already waiting for you, holding their guitar in one hand and hiding the other behind their back.

 

You snorted.  "Didn't I hear your mom say something about homework?"

 

"Oh great, looks like kill-joy's gonna live up to her name today."

 

Your face fell while Frisk winced.  You rubbed your brow, suppressed a groan and said, "...Why did you even bother trying to hide him?"

 

Bashfully, they brought their hand around to their chest to reveal the grouchy flower.  You folded your arms and waited.

 

"What, is funny-bones busy tonight?  Can't see why else you'd wanna come give us grief."

 

Frisk jostled him with a frown, but you just asked, "Do you want dinner or not?"

 

Flowey scowled, opened his mouth, started to say something, then seemed to think better and looked away, folding his leaves sullenly.  "Hmph.  Frisk could make us dinner."

 

"Yeah.  But I can order pizza."

 

You held in a laugh when both of them perked up, Frisk's eyes and mouth widening and Flowey's petals lifting in that oddly cat-like way.

 

"...Pepperoni?"

 

You stuck out a hand to him, raising a brow and answering with, "Do we have a truce?"

 

Flowey flinched, and for a brief, irrational moment, you were sure he was going to bite you, but he just sighed and extended one leaf.  You tried not to think about how weird it felt (and looked) shaking hands with a flower as he grumbled, "Fine."

 

One half-hearted homework session and several silent and vocal questions of "What's taking it so long!?" you were all sitting on the living room floor, eating pizza and watching YouTube videos on Frisk's tablet.  A few slices in, they started shoving their guitar toward you and pointing insistently at a music video they'd just pulled up.

 

"What the...you listen to Ninja Sex Party?  That is so not...what is it with you and being age-inappropriate today?"

 

"They're not just some little kid," Flowey snorted around a full mouth.  You weren't at all sure how a flower was able to eat solid food like that, but after watching a literal skeleton eat and drink without any difficulty, you wouldn't question it.

 

"You're not little, but you're still a kid dude."  Your scolding was pretty light, and you weren't bothering to hide your smile as you took the guitar from their hands.

 

They pointed to the video again:  Dinosaur Lazer Fight.  **Not that bad,** they insisted, throwing in a begging motion.

 

"Fine, fine.  But don't tell your mom."

 

So for the next hour, you sang semi-censored NSP, Weird Al, and Flight of the Conchords as Frisk laughed and tried playing along.  The impromptu guitar lesson was a welcome respite from worrying about magic and souls and sorcerers, and Frisk was, as always, a great student.  Even Flowey seemed to enjoy it, in his own way.  He stopped trying to antagonize you and quietly listened while tacking away on Frisk's tablet, glancing up when the music would stop and then relaxing when it started up again.

 

The lesson was winding down when Frisk offered to wash dishes, giving you a quiet moment to noodle at the guitar.  This really was your happy place.  Just sitting on the floor, plucking strings and singing under your breath, forgetting everything else going on in your life.

 

"So you're like Frisk, huh?"

 

You looked up.  Flowey was still on the tablet, his expression almost bored.  "What are you—"

 

"I'm not stupid, ok?  I live here.  I hear them talking, I see what goat-mom's been up to."  He glanced at you.  "You're a sorcerer."

 

You tensed, hands falling still and silent.  Your mind flashed back to when you'd first learned about your powers.  You remembered how vehemently Sans had sent Flowey away.  He hadn't wanted him to find out, for whatever reason, but he had anyway.  Sans didn’t trust Flowey.  And now, with a guitar in your lap and a pizza box on the floor between you, you should be wary about that, you should question it, but for some reason...

 

"Yeah, I am."

 

He looked almost surprised, but he regained that uncaring look and snorted, "Not like it was hard to figure out."

 

You stayed quiet, not knowing what he wanted out of this.  You just watched him move his leaves over the screen for a second, another.

 

"You know she's lying to you, right?"

 

"...What?"

 

"Goat-mom."  His eyes swept the room, the mess Toriel had left in her research.  "All this.  She's wasting your time."

 

You felt like you should just keep your mouth shut.  This sounded suspiciously like bait.  _Don't take it,_ you told yourself.  _Remember what Sans said.  Remember.  He's not a monster.  He's not a person._

 

Not a person.

 

"What do you mean?" you couldn’t help but ask.

 

"Do you know about the war?"

 

You pinched one guitar string between your fingers.  You knew there was a war long ago, one that resulted in the monsters being trapped underground.  Everyone knew that.  But the details were, for all you knew, lost to time.  "A little."

 

"Did you know she saw it all?"

 

"She...?"  You finally put down the guitar.  "Do you mean Toriel?"

 

"That's the one."

 

"...What do you mean she saw it?"

 

He met your eyes.  A touch of that scary grin pulled at his face, and you felt a shiver run down your back.  "She was alive.  She knew the sorcerers, before they won."

 

Slowly, you shook your head.  "What, like…before the war?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Are you…”  You leaned in.  “Are you seriously trying to tell me…that she was around back then?  Cuz she’d have to be—”

 

"Old.  Yeah.  That's an understatement."

 

You sat straighter, narrowed your eyes and said, "You're messing with me."

 

He let out a low, sinister laugh.  He set down the tablet and turned fully toward you, fanning out his petals.  "Then why don't you ask her?"

 

You were still staring at him when Frisk came back in.  His dark expression faded and he picked up the tablet, returning to his game as if nothing happened.  Frisk apparently didn't notice the change in mood as they took the guitar from the floor and started testing out some new chords, and you didn't try bringing it to their attention. 

 

She’d have no reason to hide anything, right?  And she would’ve had to be centuries old, maybe more, which was impossible.  Impossible, even though…you’d thought a lot of things were impossible three years ago.  While Frisk and Flowey returned to their usual back-and-forth, you just looked around at the books and papers and thought...was there a chance he was telling the truth?  How much did you really know about your monster friends?  You trusted them, that was never in question but...maybe there were some questions that needed asking.

 

A part of you was sure that Flowey's only goal in saying anything was to plant that seed of doubt.  But there was a small side of you, a quiet side, that couldn't help wondering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's something about pizza that just brings out the misplaced trust in all of us


	34. Similar Tastes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god three updates within a week??? oh my freaking god???? there must be something in the water cuz i am just going CRAZY writing this shit, WOO
> 
> [check out m'lair-dy](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)   
> 

You were dawdling in the kitchen, waiting for your last table of late diners to pick through their desserts and watching the clock.  You knew who was waiting for you outside.  Oh man, was he worried?  Probably not.  He could see inside, he could see you still had some customers.  You just felt bad when he’d been making a point to wait and walk you home every night, despite the fact that his shift ended a full hour before yours.  It was a sweet gesture but...no.  No buts, actually.  It was just sweet.  It was amazing.  He was amazing, you kept realizing, and after a quick glance to make sure your manager wouldn't see, you got out your phone.

 

***Hey sorry, last table's taking forever :(**

 

As usual, his reply came quickly.

 

***its cool.  ill just sit out here.  alone.  missin my girlfriend.**

 

You blushed and grinned and glanced around at the cooks, hoping no one noticed you.  He'd been using that word a lot the past couple days.

 

***Sounds fun.  I'll just chill in here, also alone, also missing my boyfriend.**

***wow whos the lucky guy**

 

You snorted into your hand, but before you could come up with an equally charming response your manager was peeking around the corner to jerk a pointed thumb toward your customers.  Finally, they were finishing up.  You were just about free.

 

After clearing their table and putting up chairs, you left your coworkers to close up and headed excitedly to the door.  You felt your phone buzz right as you exited.  Probably him, again, but you didn't need to settle for texting anymore.

 

"Hey!"

 

"hey," he murmured, immediately receiving you in a hug.  The soreness from a full day's work bled out of you as you melted against him, letting out a quiet, content sound and thinking for the thousandth time how good it felt to have someone wait for you.

 

"Sorry sorry.  Family came in at, like, 9:58 and...fuck.  Fuck, it is cold."  You'd naturally pulled away to smile at him, but the loss of his heat made the autumn chill all too noticeable.  He laughed at how quickly your face went from happy to miserable as you dove back into the hug, squeezing him greedily.

 

"ok not gonna lie, i'm a little excited to see how you are when it's actually winter," he chuckled.

 

"How are you so warm?  You don't have blood or whatever," you mumbled back.  You could swear you felt his magic buzz a bit stronger at that.

 

"heh.  how're you cold with all that stuff?"

 

"Stuff?"  You laughed and looked at him.  You pinched your own cheek and repeated, "This stuff?"

 

"yeah that.  and this."  He took a lock of hair in his hands, letting it run through his phalanges and fall away.  He softened as he ran his fingers through again, close to your scalp, and you leaned into the touch.  His eyes drifted to yours.  You smiled, his other hand found your face, you both leaned in, and that kiss held as much tenderness as you'd ever felt from him.  Every kiss did.  Every single one seemed to top the last and yet none were diminished and...wow.  You liked him so much.

 

"Hey," you breathed again as you parted.

 

"hey."

 

You started walking, arm in arm and as close as possible, your whole body braced against the cold.  In the comfortable lull, you pulled out your phone to see what he'd said before you came out, but...

 

"Oh."  You paused for a moment, brow scrunching.  "Huh.  Tori texted me."

 

"oh?"  He glanced at your phone curiously.

 

***Greetings, Anaya!  This is Toriel Hoepfull! ]:D How are you today?  I am well!  I wanted to inform you that I have made some headway in my research.  Would you be able to meet with me this weekend for a chat?  Much appreciated, Toriel. ]:)**

 

"i can't tell you how long it took her to stop introducing herself in every text," Sans snorted.

 

"She's made progress then..."  You put away the phone absently, slowing your pace.  "That's...that's good."

 

You stopped without realizing, brow still knotted.  Sans leaned over to try and meet your eyes.  "uh, yeah.  it's good.  everything ok...?"

 

"Oh, sorry, um...yeah.  I'm ok.  I'm just...thinking about stuff."

 

He raised one brow.  "funky stuff?"

 

You paused, resuming the walk while a distant expression overtook you.  Flowey's words had been haunting you for days.  You'd been overanalyzing— _which you really should not be doing_ —and trying to figure it out on your own— _again, probably don't do that_ —and as a result, you hadn't talked about it with anyone.  You remembered how Sans felt about Flowey, and you worried he'd get mad at the knowledge that Flowey knew about you, that you hadn't even tried to deny it.  And, well...there was this weird feeling you had that you _shouldn't_ tell anyone about the exchange.  You didn't know what it was, just a gut feeling.  Just a feeling.  Just a...stupid, totally irrational, baseless feeling.

 

"Ok, so, y'know how I watched Frisk the other night?  Well Flowey was there too cuz, y'know, he lives there, and he wanted pepperoni pizza and honestly it wasn't that bad we were all just chilling and playing guitar and—"

 

"woah, woah, hold on."  He stopped to move in front of you, holding both of your arms and searching your face.  "you were with flowey?  are you ok?  did anything—"

 

"No, no, I'm totally fine, he didn't...he's never tried anything since that first time, I promise."  You had to smile at the hard, uncertain worry on his face.  You held the front of his shirt, for a moment feeling your fingers brush against bone through the fabric.  He softened.  "I would've told you right away.  This isn't like that.  Promise."

 

Another moment, then he sighed, gave your arms a squeeze, and kept walking.  "ok.  just as long as...y'know.  you're careful around him."

 

"I know."  You leaned against him before continuing, "But yeah.  There was a second where we were alone—Frisk was just in the kitchen, but I'm pretty sure they couldn't hear us.  We weren't really talking but out of nowhere Flowey was like...um..."

 

"like what?"

 

"He...he knew about my magic?"

 

He put a hand on his head, looking unhappy.  "oh goddammit."

 

"He wasn't weird about it, he just sorta knew?  Cuz he saw what Tori was doing.  Pretty sure he just put two and two together, y'know?"

 

"ugh, yeah."  Thankfully, the flash of frustration didn't last long.  Now he just looked annoyed.  "he's a lot of things, but he's not stupid."

 

"Yeah.  But that wasn't the part that bothered me."  You gripped the phone in your pocket, trying not to second guess yourself.  You knew you could ask him anything.  "He said some weird things about Tori."

 

"like what?"

 

"Like...ok, it was weird and random, but he mentioned the war.  Y'know.  The one that nobody seems to wanna talk about...?"  There was no mistaking the way his look darkened, so you pressed on before he could say anything.  "He said I should ask Tori about it.  He said she...was there.  But she would have to be hundreds of years old, which is totally crazy, right?"

 

He didn't reply right away.  He kept his head down, pupils flickering, thinking.

 

"...Right?"

 

"well, uh...actually."

 

"Woah, wait.  _What?_ "

 

"see, tori's this special kinda monster," he explained.  "they only age if they have a kid.  otherwise they'll just uh...keep living."

 

You stared at him, eyes wide.  Of all the things you'd learned about monsters, this might actually be the hardest to believe.  "So you're telling me...Flowey was right?"

 

"he was about her being old, yeah."

 

"And the war?"

 

He stopped to look at you.  He was conflicted.  "look.  i'll tell you anything that's common knowledge, but tori...there's some things you should hear from her, y'know?  and there's things i don't even know."

 

"Right, of course, sorry," you said, immediately feeling guilty.  This had to be personal, and you didn't want to invade your friend's privacy, but now that you knew you wanted to know _more_.

 

"but uh...any idea why flowey was bringing it up...?"

 

You set your mouth in a line and said, "I think he was just trying to psych me out, for whatever reason.  He said Tori was lying to me, wasting my time with all her research.  Cuz according to him she knew some sorcerers."

 

"she's never told me anything about that.  if she had, i'd say so.  that's too important to keep secret right now."

 

"Yeah...yeah, I believe you."

 

"but maybe..."  He squeezed your hand and pulled you along.  "you should bring this up with tori when you meet up with her."

 

You cringed.  "Hoo boy.  That sounds awkward as hell."

 

He chuckled, "need me to go with you?"

 

"Hmm...I think you'd be too distracting."  When he started to snicker, you gave him a little shove.  "I'm serious!"

 

"i'm flattered."

 

"Well.  Well you should be."  You were blushing, walking closer to him and hiding behind your hair.  "But anyway.  Man.  So Tori's...how old?"

 

"dunno.  not sure if she even knows."

 

"Is that...would it...ok, so humans have a huge stigma about asking someone's age, so if I asked Tori would she...?"

 

He grinned at you in that amused way he always did when he learned something odd about humans.  "heh.  whatever weird thing you guys have, monsters don't.  but it just doesn't matter as much in some species.  i can think of a few that don't even keep track."

 

"Wow, that's...crazy.  I mean, with us, society is pretty much structured around age.  You turn sixteen, you get your driver's license; you turn eighteen, you're a 'legal' adult; twenty-one and you can drink.  We live around it, man."

 

He shrugged.  "kids do kid stuff, teenagers do teenager stuff, adults do adult stuff.  heh."

 

"So you promise Tori won't get super offended?"  You gave him a serious look.  "Promise me.  I won't ask if you don't."

 

"promise, promise," he laughed, raising a placating hand.  "her being old _is_ common knowledge, so you're good."

 

You nodded after a moment, satisfied.  "Man.  I just can't wrap my head around it...someone being...I mean, she's basically immortal, right?"

 

"uh.  sort of?"

 

"I mean, sure, I couldn't really guess an age on her, but I never thought..."  You snorted, giving him a joking glance and adding, "Guess we both had a thing for older women, huh?"

 

Sans stopped.  You stopped.

 

It just slipped out, and it only took a nanosecond for you to cover your mouth in horror.  He had turned to you instantly, blue and caught off guard.  _Oh my god_ , you panicked, _oh my GOD_.  You couldn't keep track of who knew what.  You were just so open around him, so relaxed, he made talking way too easy.  Oh god oh god oh god, this was _not_ how you wanted to broach the subject, oh god, _"older women?"_   What the hell was wrong with you?!

 

"h-heh, uh, so...you know about that, huh?"

 

You'd let go of him to hide behind your hands and hair.  You were just shaking your head, burning up.  "Oh my god," you managed to moan.  "I'm sorry, oh my god."

 

He laughed—it sounded a bit strained, but not offended.  "hey, woah, don't hide."

 

"Oh my god."

 

"will you come out?"  He was starting to sound amused.

 

"Never."

 

Gently, he took your wrists and pulled them away, meeting you with a reassuring grin.  "babe, you're fine.  it's temperate."

 

You relaxed a fraction, still completely flushed and not quite able to make eye contact.  "...Temperate?"

 

"yeah.  hey, c'mere."  He pulled your head down to his shoulder, almost laughing.

 

"I'm...so... _stupid_."

 

"no you're not," he chuckled.  "you're cute."

 

"Don't try and twist this, that was a dumb move and you know it."

 

"...ok maybe a little.  just a tiny bit dumb."

 

"Thank you, yes."  You pulled away, shaking your head and looking mortified.  "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

 

"it's not a secret, naya," he soothed.  "just hadn't brought it up cuz...y'know, it doesn't matter, right?"

 

"H-ha.  That's exactly what Tori said."

 

He cocked his head.  "so she knows you know?  does she know i know you know?  who else knows you know she knows—"

 

"Ok, ok, I see it now.”  You rolled your eyes as his grin turned teasing.  “We're adults.  I'm dumb.  Point taken."

 

Without warning, he leaned forward to kiss you, keeping it quick and sweet but still so, so tender.  "you're not dumb," he breathed, just a hair away from your lips.  "you're my girlfriend."

 

For a moment, you bought it, swept up in the lingering tingle on your mouth and how close he was and how much you liked him and then...  "That was a terrible line."

 

"yeah, not my best."

 

Finally, you both started laughing.  You were still embarrassed, still awkward, but you could relax.  He always brought that out in you.

 

"so uh," he started after a few moments.  "you're ok with it?"

 

"With what?"

 

"with me and, uh...y'know.  the history, or whatever."

 

You blinked.  "Of course.  Actually, I think it’s kinda great, y’know?  That you’re still so close and stuff."

 

He gave a quiet breath of relief and said, “yeah.  ok.  good.”

 

You were able to tease each other right up until you arrived home.  That was one of your favorite things about him: his ability to make you laugh no matter the situation.  Things didn't have to be awkward or tense, they were just easy.  But once you were at your door, not laughing, not talking, just holding hands and waiting for the first move, you felt a tension that was entirely welcome.

 

"This is me," you said, like always.

 

You could already feel the increased hum through the front of his shirt as he pulled you closer, still holding hands, leaning his forehead against yours.  He just stood like that for a moment, breathing.  You watched him and stayed still as long as you could.  Then he was against you, your hands cupped his skull, his went around your back, and you felt that familiar dread of not wanting this to end settle in your chest.

 

You were both developing a kind of rhythm.  Certain signals that showed when you would pull apart, little disappointed motions that drew things to a close.  But this time, they didn't come.  Neither of you were willing to stop.  You weren't thinking about anything, you were kissing him and digging your fingertips as best you could into the hard surface of his face, and without realizing it, your hands drifted lower, under his jaw, to his neck...

 

"mm..."  He nearly jerked at your touch, breaking the kiss with his eyes squeezed shut.  Before you could ask, he breathed, "just...kinda sensitive.  h-heh."

 

You were still flush with him.  You stared at him for a moment, your mind hazy, and then you slowly, carefully tilted your head to brush your lips against his jaw.  The noise he made, the way he tried to bite it back while his phalanges reflexively clutched at you...your mind—or maybe your body—thought of where this could go.  You'd been here before.  You'd _rushed_ this before.

 

Reluctantly, you pulled away.  You were still holding him.  You weren't closing off, but you were stopping, and he could tell.  He let out a shuddering breath and let his head fall on your shoulder.  With an almost-childish whine he muttered, "you're...it's been..."  He hugged you even tighter.  "'s not _fair_."

 

"You're one to talk," you chuckled softly.  "Mr. Zappy-lips."

 

He huffed out a laugh.  "'zappy-lips?'  is that what they're like?"

 

"Yup.  It's great.  I'm into it."

 

He moved to rest your heads together, wearing an expression so happy you had to catch your breath.  "good.  cuz i am very, very into you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanna get all the awkwardness out of the way ok they need to move past it they need to have all the laundry up to dry by the time they're smooching the parts down under


	35. Romance, Interrupted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a dark dark day but y'know what we can still have fun, the bunch of us. we can still read about this anxious little meerkat of a gf. we can follow her on her Adventures.
> 
> [arts for u!](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/tagged/my-art)

"Cream and sugar?"

 

You jumped a bit when Toriel popped her head out of the kitchen.  "Oh!  Oh, yeah, definitely."

 

"Two sugars?"

 

"Um, three sugars maybe?  And just...just a whole bunch of cream.  Like I'm talking...y'know what I'll just get it myself."

 

She laughed as you joined her.  She was leaning over the counter, pouring coffee into two owl-shaped mugs.  You let yourself relax a little.  Toriel looked much more put-together than she had the last time you saw her, as did the apartment.  Most of the cluttered books, notes and documents were gone, save for a stack on the coffee table you were sure would be the topic of today's conversation.  The monster was even dressed like she'd been doing housework—she had on a slightly worn pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with her ears pulled back in a bandana.

 

As you poured in a generous amount of sweetener you quipped, "My mom always told me I like just a little coffee with my cream."

 

Toriel snorted, adding nothing to her mug.  "Oh no.  Black for me.  I cannot have even a grain of sugar."

 

"That kinda surprises me.  Aren't you like...mega into baking?"

 

"I bake for others, my friend.  That is key."  She started to lead you back to the living room, sighing, "If I had it my way, I would put snails in all my pies."

 

You stared at her.  "You're kidding."

 

"You would not be saying that if you had tried my snail pie."  The challenging smirk she gave you made you giggle, and you felt some more of the nerves bleed away.

 

You'd been so uncertain leading up to today.  Despite Sans' reassurances, you'd been mentally playing out scenario after awkward scenario for the past two days, wondering how you were going to work your doubts into the conversation.  Should you just be blunt?  Probably.  You weren't very good at blunt.  You tended to stutter and fumble and take the long route to the point and—

 

"Now.  About my research."

 

You blinked and halted your train of thought.  "Right!  Yes, yeah.  So um, did you um..."  You glanced guiltily down at the notes and books.  "This wasn't, uh, too difficult, was it...?"

 

"Oh no, no of course not."  She took a sip of coffee, eyebrows a bit scrunched.  "Or rather.  I suppose it was...something of a challenge.  Human accounts can be...well.  Fanciful."

 

"So then..."  You leaned in, the doubts giving way to a surge of curiosity.  "What did you find?  About sorcerers, a-and my magic?"

 

With a bright, open grin she replied, "Nothing!"

 

"Wh..."  You wilted.  "Um...nothing?  Really?"

 

Setting down her mug, Toriel grabbed one of the notebooks before her and started flipping through.  The pages were covered in organized, color-coded bullet-points.  "It is the strangest thing.  Our accounts have concluded that the war occurred a number of centuries ago, yet all human records from that time period show no evidence.  Nothing on monsters, nothing on the barrier, nothing on sorcerers.  It is as if it never happened."

 

"Oh, man, well that's...that's not good."

 

Oddly, she didn't look discouraged.  She picked up another book and turned to a marked page.  "No, it is not.  Not knowing the post-war climate on the surface is a hindrance, certainly.  Why are there no records?  Why are there no sorcerers?  Why is there no _magic?_ "

 

Toriel showed you the book.  It was an old ink illustration of a crowd, pitchforks, a woman, a fire.  A witch trial.  You'd seen so many depictions of the practice, you'd learned about it in school, but seeing it now was enough to make your stomach twist.

 

"Fear."

 

You looked up at her serious expression.  "F-fear...?"

 

"For so much of your history, your people _feared_ magic.  Despite centuries of looking to alchemists, shamans, and even street-performers for inspiration, the collective seemed to experience this...hateful shift.  Why?"

 

You had a feeling she wasn't really asking you, but you shook your head and shrugged.  "I-I don't know."

 

"I have been theorizing."  She spread some of the loose documents across the table; runes you couldn't read, sheets of parchment that were yellowed with age.  "By our records, the timing is a match.  Our imprisonment marked the beginning of this cultural change.  After the war, magic and monsters were stricken from history.  Perhaps to ensure that no wars would be fought with magic again, or that there would be no attempt to free monsters, or..."  She suddenly stopped, blushing.  She'd been speaking quickly, passionately, and now she coughed and added, "These are, again, only theories."

 

"Ok, but...what about sorcerers?"  Your eyes flitted over the documents, trying and failing to decipher them.  "Didn't they, like...I mean, weren't they with the humans?  Against monsters?"

 

Toriel nodded energetically.  "Excellent, excellent question!  Yes, we fell because of the sorcerers' prowess, which is why it seemed especially odd that even _their_ legacy is lost to history.  Which brings me to my prevalent theory:  I believe that without monsters to assign fear to, humans turned on the remaining threat.  The very sorcerers who won their war."  She gave a little wave of her paw.  "It is, of course, difficult to believe that a species would so quickly turn on their own, but—"

 

"No, um..."  You felt a stab of discomfort.  "No, it's not.  It uh...it makes sense."

 

Not for the first time, in the presence of this monster who'd only ever been warm and open and loving toward you, you felt embarrassed of your own kind.  She seemed to pick up on it.  With a smile, she placed one paw on your knee and the other over the coffee mug still held in your hands.  You realized, after a moment, that she was warming it back up for you.

 

"But there is another clear shift."

 

You cocked your head.

 

"The very thing that clouded my research made me see it."  She took a book from the very bottom of the stack, and instantly you recognized _The Fellowship of the Ring_.  "All these books.  The films, the art, all the _stories_ you have created.  Somehow, humans fell in _love_ with magic again."

 

Unconsciously, you raised a hand to your chest.  Your eyes widened.  "Oh."

 

"Children grow up _dreaming_ to be wizards, superheroes.  This magic-free world has become mundane to adults.  You were once a species of fear, but are now a species of fantasy."  She looked almost in awe.  "How very, very strange."

 

You found yourself blushing at the way she was looking at you with something like fascination.  "Wow, I mean...yeah.  You're totally right."

 

"There is no way to know if this shift in favor of magic has anything to do with the resurgence of sorcerers..."  She looked up at a picture on her wall: her school, her students both monster and human.  "...but it does seem like too much of a coincidence to ignore."

 

She was quiet for a few moments, until you wondered if this was the end of what she'd found.  You'd learned something, certainly, but you hadn't asked any of your questions, and you still didn't have a clue as to how you were going to control your magic.

 

"So..."  You started.  She looked back with a questioning smile.  "So that's...that's it?  Not that it's not cool!  I mean, th-that's some useful info for sure, but like..."

 

"You are anxious about your abilities," she finished.

 

You shuffled bashfully.  "Um.  Yeah."

 

"Well."  To your surprise she produced another stack of books from beside her armchair, one you hadn't seen before.  "We may not have record of the sorcerers who won the war, but there are many other forms of experimental human magic."

 

You picked up a few of the volumes.  _Herbs and Uses_ ; _Familiars - Relationship, Care and Communication_ ; _Basic Alchemy Vol. 1_.

 

"I believe it is time we take an old-fashioned approach.  I have found some materials I hope will help you in your studies."

 

"...You're giving me homework."

 

"If that is what you want to call it, yes!"

 

You smiled, shrugged and said, “Well.  Guess it’s worth a shot.”

 

You ended the lesson by briefly practicing fire-magic (though it was still more like heat-magic).  Toriel showed you a few chapters she'd marked in your readings, with the disclaimer that, again, she was only theorizing.  You were willing.  You wanted to learn, and if it would take pouring through some dusty old books to do it, you would make an effort.

 

But all the while, Flowey's warning still buzzed in your head.  You kept trying to find openings to say something, to question her, but how could you?  How could you come out and ask her if she was _lying?_   Because she would never, she wanted to badly to help you, teach you, and you had to trust that if she knew anything, she'd tell you.

 

Once she was taking your mugs to be washed, you could feel that things were drawing to a close.  You'd leave soon.  You'd lose your chance.  So you balled your hands into a determined fist and followed her into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway for a moment.

 

"H-hey—"  Your voice cracked.  You coughed.  "Hey, Tori?"

 

"Yes?"  She wiped her paws on a dishrag and tilted her head at you.

 

"I heard, um.  J-just like...on the internet—"  _Nice cover, genius._   "—I heard that you...you're...you're a different kind of monster...right?"

 

You felt horrible at the tiny flash of self-consciousness that pulled at her smile.  "Oh.  Well, yes, I am."

 

You just had to forge ahead.  "A-and you live a long time, right?"

 

"I do, yes."

 

You couldn't look at her.  You stared down at your feet, face red and voice embarrassingly unsure.  "So um.  Wouldn't that mean...w-well.  Weren't you...there?"

 

She was quiet for a moment, and you considered backpedaling, but finally she said, "I was."  You opened your mouth to continue, but she beat you to it.  "And I know what you are thinking.  And I wish I could be more useful to you, but..."

 

"Oh god, forget I said anything, oh my god."  You covered your face.  "That was... just super insensitive.  I'm so sorry, forget it, forget it please."

 

"No!  No, Anaya, you do not need to apologize, it is just..."

 

You looked up at her.  She didn't look offended, but she did look...strained, almost?  She had one paw placed lightly on her head and was attempting a smile.

 

"I do not remember it."

 

"Oh.  O-oh, um..."

 

"I have tried."  Her expression turned apologetic.  "But I was very young.  I remember a time before—my early childhood, when things were tense but not yet volatile—but there is...a sort of blank page."  Now she shuffled her feet, and it seemed somehow wrong to see her mirroring your own uncertainty.  "I am sorry.  I did not want to disappoint you, so I said nothing, but—"

 

"I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have brought it up, I-I totally trust you."

 

She glanced up.  "I...thank you.  To tell you the truth, I..."  She reached up to pull away her bandana, letting her ears fall over her shoulders.  "I take pride in my research, you see, and I have always been...discouraged with myself.  I am a witness, yet I am next to useless."

 

"No!  No way, you're not useless, you're...I mean, you're already such a great teacher."

 

She tugged at one ear and blushed.  For how old you knew she was, she’d had many moments of looking so young.  "I certainly hope to be of some help."

 

Almost on instinct, you walked forward to give her a hug, surprising even yourself.  It only took her a moment to hug you back, practically enveloping you in her huge arms.  Of course you trusted her.  How could you not?  She was one of the warmest people you'd ever met.  She was your friend.

 

You left her apartment with a last fond wave, arms laden with books and thoughts still racing.  You still didn't know what happened to the sorcerers, as good as Toriel's guess was.  You still didn't know how to control your magic, even though you had faith you'd learn.  And now you didn't know why Toriel couldn't remember, but you trusted her enough not to pry.  You'd gotten a few answers, but not to the questions you'd expected.  You supposed the best thing to do would be to study, research, and practice.  Just like any skill.

 

Even though it was still just the afternoon, the sun was getting low in the sky.  You had a few hours until you'd have to get ready for work.  You hadn't thought to stop at the skeleton brothers' apartment on your way out—you knew Sans would be working—but you still looked back wistfully from the parking lot.  You wanted to see him.  You wanted to relay all these new findings, you wanted to joke about how boring the funkmaster-homework would be.

 

And like some miracle, as soon as you turned back to make your way down the street, you saw a familiar blue jacket.  You gasped.  He was still a fair distance away, head down, looking sleepily at his phone.  You grinned when you felt the telltale vibration in your pocket.

 

Balancing the books in one hand, you waved frantically, quickening your pace.  "Sans!" you called.

 

He froze, looked around, and when his eyes found you, you could see him brighten even from far away.  He opened his arms.  "naya!" you heard his muffled voice reply.

 

You felt like you were in a goofy romcom, jogging down the street toward him.  Both of you wore matching happy, disbelieving expressions.  You were both so slow.  Oh god, you were so out of shape.  Why did the books have to be so heavy?

 

You both reached opposite ends of a crosswalk.  You were practically bouncing as you waited for the walk signal to come on.  You grinned at him through passing cars, and he grinned back, and this was so silly and stupid and cute and the light was just about to change and—

 

A red convertible suddenly screeched up to the curb next to you.  You blinked.  Your eyes had to refocus, and you barely had a second to process Papyrus beaming at you from the driver's seat, with Undyne in shotgun and Alphys in the back.  You were pretty sure that romantic grin was still frozen on your face as the three of them gasped, looked back and forth between you and Sans, and steadily twisted their faces in a way that was as gleeful as it was malicious.

 

"Get in, NERD!"

 

"Wh--"  You didn't have a second to protest before Undyne was reaching out of the car, picking you up under your arms and plopping you in the seat next to Alphys.  "Wh...!"

 

By the time the whole exchange was over, the light had changed and they were all laughing.  You looked between them in frantic shock, then turned back to Sans.  He looked just as thrown off, eye sockets wide and one hand raised helplessly.

 

"W-wait!" you tried to plead.

 

"NYEH!!  GOOD EYE, UNDYNE!" Papyrus was congratulating.  "IT TAKES SOME REAL SKILL TO SPOT A ROMANTIC RENDEZVOUS LIKE THAT!"

 

"It was Al-pal's idea!"

 

"W-well I just saw them a-and I was like...'oh my god?!'"

 

The car started to accelerate away.  You still felt like an actor in a bad movie as you reached your hands back toward Sans and repeated, "Wait!!"

 

" _noo_..."  Sans' lazy cry faded as you drove around a corner, and you were left with nothing to do but gape at your friends.

 

"We're taking you to dinner," Undyne declared with a pointy grin, "and you are gonna DISH."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, i know, i know, that was such a tease. i suck


	36. Honestly Who Even Likes Reading?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, this is the first chapter where i've finished it, proof-read it, and thought "wow I can't publish this garbage" and then threw out huuuge chunks in the revision. BUT, i like how it turned out here you go
> 
> [dont forget 2 visit santa's workshop](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

You didn't want to use the word "pouting" to describe yourself as the four of you waited in line for burgers but, well...fuck it.  You were pouting.  You stood at the back of the group with your arms folded and your face tight.  You knew you'd be laughing about this soon enough, but right now all you could think about was how such a perfect coincidence had been snatched from you by another perfect (albeit infuriating) coincidence.

 

"...and extra jalapenos!"  Undyne turned to you after finishing her order.  "You hungry, dweeb?"

 

"No," you answered, too quickly and too sullenly.  After a moment or trying to be stubborn, you amended, "...Yes."

 

Undyne burst out laughing.  "Oh my GOD, babe, she's PISSED."

 

"W-we're sorry N-Naya, do you w-want us t-t-to take you back, o-or...?"  Alphys had been full steam ahead at first, but she'd deflated as soon as she saw how disappointed you were.

 

"DON'T WORRY, ALPHYS, SHE'LL STOP SULKING AFTER SHE SEES HIM TONIGHT!" Papyrus declared.  You'd take offense if that bluntness had come from anyone but him.

 

"No, dude, he's right, it's totally ok," you sighed to Alphys.  "It was funny.  I'm being a butt.  And, uh, I guess I'll take a chicken gyro."

 

You were already cooling off by the time you were all sitting down with your food.  In fact, as you listened to them gleefully recount the kidnapping, you realized you'd never hung out with your friends, well, sans Sans.  Their silly, familiar banter was already making a smile sneak across your face.

 

"The best part was he didn't even TRY?" Undyne cackled, chomping on a handful of fries.  "Classic Sans."

 

"YOU'D THINK HE’D MAKE MORE OF AN EFFORT TO RESCUE HIS DAMSEL IN DISTRESS."  Papyrus was very near grumbling, like he was disappointed in his brother.

 

"I dunno if 'getting picked up for a dinner date with friends' counts as distress," you snorted.

 

Alphys piped in quietly, "K-kinda looked like distress to me."

 

"ANYWAY."  Undyne slammed a fist on the table, and it felt like the whole restaurant rattled.  "We're getting off track here.  NAYA."

 

You heart dropped.  You took an excessively big bite of your gyro.

 

"Nope, hey, you're not getting out of this.  SPILL."

 

"HOW ARE HIS GIFT-GIVING SKILLS?  I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW HE LEARNED FROM THE BEST, SO IF HE'S NOT UP TO PAR THAT IS _NOT_ ON ME."

 

"Um."  You swallowed, fidgeting.  "He, um.  He got me pickles once?"

 

Papyrus stared at you for a moment, before letting out a deep sigh and rubbing his brow.  "HE ACTUALLY GAVE THEM TO YOU."

 

"I...like pickles?  So."

 

"OH!"  He immediately perked up.  "THEN YOU'RE VERY WELCOME!  I GAVE HIM THE IDEA."

 

Undyne pressed on, "Ok, and what else?"

 

"I don't...we're...I mean, I dunno, i-it's not like it's been..."  Your eyes flitted between their expectant stares until settling on your hands.  "We haven't been... _official_...for all that long..."

 

When Undyne and Alphys started squealing, it was all you could do not to cover your ears, but the other diners didn't have your self-control.

 

"YOU HAVEN'T?"  Even Papyrus had trouble speaking over their screeches.  "BUT WHAT ABOUT THE PASTA DATE?"

 

"We weren't, like, _date_ dating then."

 

"WOW!  IMPRESSIVE TO HAVE FOOLED EVEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS!"

 

"Have you kissed?"  Alphys' hissed question was borderline desperate.

 

"You...you guys literally saw us kissing."

 

"I mean the _good_ kind of kissing."

 

You went bright red as instances of "good kissing" came to mind.  "Woah, hang on—"

 

"Have you guys, uh."  Undyne grinned and moved her hands in a motion that could have been asking what kind of sports you were into, but definitely meant something else.  "You know."

 

"HAVE THEY 'DANCED'?" Papyrus clarified.  "BECAUSE THEY'VE DEFINITELY DANCED."

 

"Sweetie, y-y-you can't just ask if..."  Alphys trailed off, but despite her blush, she looked even more curious than her wife.

 

"What!  I'm just asking if they've DANCED."  She winked, making it extra obvious to eliminate any one-eyed confusion.

 

“UNDYNE, NOT TO QUESTION YOUR QUESTION, BUT YOU WERE AT THE HALLOWEEN PARTY WITH US!  WE _ALL_ DANCED WITH NAYA!!”

 

“Not that kind of dancing, Pap.”

 

“W-we mean, um…”  Alphys was nearly sweating.  “The kind of dancing that…th-th-that, um…!”

 

“That people only do with their special someone!” Undyne supplied, squeezing her wife around the shoulders.

 

“OH.  YOU MEAN BALLROOM DANCING.”

 

“Sure, bud.”

 

They’d almost seemed to forget about you in the debate, which was great, because you were pretty sure your head might explode if they said the word “dancing” one more time.  You wanted to make a break for it.  With luck, nobody would notice you slip away to the bathroom to compose yourself, splash some water on your face, maybe scream a little…

 

“WELL, NAYA?”

 

Not so lucky.  You gaped silently up at Papyrus’ innocent face.

 

“HAVE YOU AND MY BROTHER BALLROOM DANCED?”

 

“Oh…wow.  Um.  I-I mean…I wasn’t even sure if…I haven’t asked if…we, it’s, he’s…I mean…”  You looked around at them numbly.  “… _Can_ he…?”

 

They all stared at you.  Undyne and Alphys’ mouths hung open for a beat, another, and then Undyne was howling with laughter and slapping the table.  You let your hair fall over your face, slumping back in your chair and wishing you could disappear and oh god, you _had_ wondered about it but you weren’t even _close_ to a point of asking what exactly it would be like with him and—

 

“That’s actually a good question,” Alphys mused under her wife’s guffaws.

 

“That’s HILARIOUS, oh my god!”  Undyne whipped toward Papyrus and cackled, “Well?  Can he?!”

 

“FIRST OFF, I DON’T SEE WHAT’S SO FUNNY.  AND YES, TECHNICALLY HE CAN MOVE HIS FEET IN A PRE-DESIGNATED SEQUENCE, BUT I CAN’T POSSIBLY SPEAK TO HIS TALENT AS A DANCER.”

 

You knew this was all going over Papyrus’ head, you knew he was speaking earnestly, but hearing this from his _brother_ was making the whole situation so, so much worse.  You finally buried your head in your hands.  “ _Oh god why_.”

 

“I-I don’t think Papyrus is the b-best person to ask…”

 

“Should we text Sans?!”

 

You parted your fingers to meet her eye.  “Don’t you fucking dare.”

 

More uproarious laughter, then Alphys mumbled, “Maybe we should ask Tor—”

 

Undyne slapped a hand over her wife’s mouth, still trying to catch her breath.

 

“ _Don’t,_ oh my god, guys, oh my god.”  This was getting so ridiculous and so mortifying, you had to let slip a few crazed giggles.  “Ok, A) I know about him and Toriel, and B) can we talk about _literally anything else._ ”

 

“You KNOW about them?!”

 

“Ok, not that.”

 

“I THOUGHT THE QUEEN DIDN’T WANT US TALKING ABOUT IT??”  Papyrus looked helplessly confused.  “FOR SOME REASON??”

 

“Frisk told me, and—”

 

“Of COURSE they did!”

 

“— _and_ we’re all cool with it, it’s not a thing, so we don’t have to—”

 

“You’re right.  We’re not talking about that.  We’re talking about SANAYA.”

 

You snapped your mouth shut.  Great, back to the dancing questions.  You brought your hands down as all three of them leaned in, grinning in a way that was marginally less evil than before.

 

“So.  How long?”

 

“H-how long what?”

 

“How long have you LIKED him, dork!”

 

Somehow, the question caught you off guard.  You weren’t expecting the genuine brightness in their expressions, the way they really seemed to want to know.  You still weren’t used to that.  You still weren’t used to having people want to know what you were going through.

 

“W-when was your first kiss?”

 

“Was it at the planetarium?!  It totally was, wasn’t it.”

 

“IS HE GOOD TO YOU?  DOES HE PUT HIS JACKET OVER PUDDLES SO YOU DON’T GET YOUR DELICATE HUMAN FEET WET?”

 

For a moment, you could only stare.  This wasn’t gossip, and it wasn’t teasing.  This was just friends talking, laughing, getting excited for you.  So instead of the humiliation you’d been dreading, you found yourself smiling in tentative happiness.  You wanted to talk about him.  You wanted to let out some of the light he’d been filling you with. 

 

You felt a softer blush on your cheeks as you finally admitted, “He’s…he’s so great, you guys.”

 

* * *

 

 

“i mean, i could see undyne or paps pulling that shit no problem, but _alph_?  didn’t know she had it in her.”

 

“Are we just gonna ignore that you did literally _nothing_ to stop them?”

 

“seemed like a whole lotta work.”  Sans shrugged his entire body, and with your arms linked he forced you to slouch down with him.

 

Laughing and trying to drag him back up, you protested, “Seriously?  Even for me?”

 

“hey, i totally yelled at them for you!”

 

“The laziest yell ever.”

 

“are you surprised?”

 

Still giggling, you turned a bit to face him, put a hand on his cheek, and rested your foreheads together.  “Not a bit.”

 

Walking home from the comedy club, you’d filled him in on all the details of your impromptu dinner date.  Well…most of the details.  You hadn’t said a word about dancing, nor would you.  Luckily, the rest of the conversation had been innocent and fun.  You’d remembered how cathartic it could be to have other people in on your life.

 

“so, uh…nothing else from tori?  just the books?”

 

Your flirty smile faded as you sighed, “Nothing but what I told you.  I was kinda hoping for something more definite, but…reading is fine.  I guess.”

 

“you got something against reading?”

 

“I dunno, I was never that into it growing up.”  You were a little surprised to see the offended look on Sans’ face, and you added, “I was just into other stuff!  Guitar and music and junk, comic books even.  I didn’t _not_ read, I just…ok stop frowning at me.”

 

He shook his head in over-the-top disappointment.  “kids these days.”

 

You snorted.  “Wow.  Ok.  Sorry I’m not some _nerd_ like you.”

 

“so no manners, either.  and you hate reading…”  He gave in to laughter when you suddenly tried to hold his mouth shut.  “ _violent_.  the list goes on.”

 

“I don’t have to take this!” you snickered, giving little resistance when he pulled your hands away by the wrists.  “This…bookworm smack.”

 

“oh yeah?”

 

You struggled just a bit, enjoying the way he wasn’t letting go of you.  “Yeah.  I could take you, easy.”

 

“i’d like to see you try.”

 

“Fine.”  You gave your very best effort at a serious expression and muttered, “Hey, nerd.  Give…give me your lunch money.”

 

His grip finally weakened as he cracked up, and soon you were both bent from laughter.  You managed to straighten and grin down at him victoriously, hands on your hips.

 

“See?  I told you I could—”

 

He brought his head back up and kissed you in the very same motion.  His magic buzzed even stronger than usual—it sent a wave of static straight to your chest the moment he made contact.  You were left speechless and frozen for a moment, until he pulled away to meet you with a grin that still had a bit of laughter in it.

 

“what was that?”

 

You blinked a few times.  “T-told you I could, uh…take.  Um.”

 

He busted up at the weak retort, took you by the arm, and kept leading you home.  The tingle still hadn’t left your lips, and that fact was making it hard to keep your mind from remembering Undyne’s suggestive wink.  You had to forge ahead.

 

“S-so, um,” you stammered, “Books.  You like books then?”

 

“what gave me away?”

 

You smirked and gave him a little push.  “What kind of books, smartass?”

 

He flinched away with a snort, and then raised his pupils thoughtfully.  “uh, just…any book, i guess.”

 

“Fantasy?”

 

“you know it.”

 

“Non-fiction?”

 

“my jam.”

 

“Young-adult romance?”

 

“oh _hell_ yeah.”

 

You laughed while he grinned—he always looked so pleased when he managed to crack you up.  “Ok, but seriously,” you giggled, “what’re you into?”

 

“i’m being totally serious.”  When you snorted, he insisted, “no, really.  anything i could get my hands on when i was little.  that’s all i did.  i’d hang out at the library, or check the dump, or—”

 

“Wait, the dump?”

 

“yeah.  sometimes books would fall down from the surface but, uh…heh.  people don’t usually throw away good books.  lotsa phone books, lotsa self-help books and biographies.  every now and then there’d be a winner though.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“like uh… _the phantom tollbooth_.  that was one of my favorites.  the water’d ruined some pages but—”

 

“For real?”  You beamed and gestured to yourself.  “Dude, I totally read that!”

 

His face lit up.  “really?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, back in grade school!  I didn’t get a lot of it honestly.  I just liked the dog and the drawings and stuff.”

 

“i was a kid when i read it, too.”

 

“Wow, that’s…that’s really cool.”

 

For a moment you both just grinned at each other, and you felt warmth well up in your chest as you thought about how much you _loved_ this.  Just talking to him, learning about each other, finding things in common, finding things that were different.  The more you found out about him, the more you wanted to know.

 

It wasn’t long before you reached the apartment, and even though it was almost three in the morning, you didn’t feel tired at all.  More than anything, you didn’t want to call it a night.  By the way he was holding your hand, still aimlessly chatting, _stalling_ even, you could tell he didn’t want to either.

 

“well uh…guess you’ve gotta get some sleep,” he reluctantly said.

 

“Oh, well, y’know.  I’m not super sleepy or anything.”  You swung your hands a bit, casting a frown toward your locked door.  “I actually might take a crack at one of those books.”

 

“don’t look too excited.”

 

Was your lack of enthusiasm really so obvious?  “I know, I know.  I’m sure it’ll be cool, just…I’ve never been much of a studier.”

 

He brought you a little closer, resting one hand on your arm and trying to look casual as he suggested, “if you ever need help with it, i could, uh…y’know.  throw you a _bone_.”

 

You glanced at the door again, and for some reason, you could feel your soul’s pulsing—usually so easy to ignore—pick up.  You cleared your throat.  “Like…whenever?”

 

“yeah, ‘course.”

 

“…Like now?”

 

He tensed the tiniest bit, and it was all you could do not to backpedal as the implications of what you’d just asked hit you.

 

“T-to study!” you clarified, which turned his tension into a blush.  You tried to force yourself to play it cool.  You tried to suppress your fluttering soul.

 

He’d never been in your apartment before.  Much less with _you_.  Much less at _night_.  The memories of your kidnappers’ conversation were brought right to the front of your mind.  You rationalized, _Why are you freaking out now?  What do you think’s gonna happen?  You don’t need to be shy around him.  You’re dating, aren’t you?  You’ve already been with him for two weeks!  You’ve already…_

_Woah.  No._ Now you were blushing as the realization rolled through you.  _Not “already.”  You’ve_ only _been with him for two weeks._

 

“heh.  um, i mean.”  Sans was rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the door.  “you sure it’s not too late?”

 

The adorable hint of hope in his voice wasn’t helping.  You swallowed, “Uh, nope.  I’m good if…if you’re good.”

 

“yeah.  yeah, cool.”  His smile regained some confidence as he quipped, “teach you bout the magic of learning.”

 

“Pft.  You can _try_.”

 

His hand was on your back as you unlocked the door, and before you opened it, you turned back to him and met his pupils.  “Just to study.”

 

There was that blush again.  “right.”  He pushed it open for you.  “just you, me, and the books.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this study session is not yet rated


	37. Rated "R" for Reading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> s/o to SweetHeavenlyFancyCakes for the chapter title
> 
> i drew something to go with this but u can only read it after it's in the end notes, ok enjoy

You opened your cabinet with a frown.  “Ok so we’ve got…wheat thins, fruit leather but only the gross apricot kind, we’ve got…oh!  Powdered donuts!”

 

“ _nice_ , hit me up.”

 

You tossed Sans the bag, and to your surprise he caught it without even looking up.  He was already sitting cross-legged on the floor with the books spread out in front of him.  His pupils flitted through the introductions of each one.  He’d switched into study mode pretty much immediately, which had taken most of the wind from your shyness-sails.  Part of you was charmed to see how seriously he was taking this.  The other part was…maybe not _disappointed_ , but—

 

“i’m thinking we go one at a time.  don’t wanna get too overwhelmed right off the bat.”

 

_Right.  Save that for later,_ you thought.  You grabbed the wheat thins and sat down opposite him.

 

“so which one do you wanna start with?”

 

“Um.”  You twisted the books toward you, furrowing your brow.  “There was an alchemy one, that could be cool.  Let’s see, we could…”

 

You trailed off when Sans moved at the top of your vision.  While you were looking the books over, he’d started taking off his jacket.  It was a casual motion, totally unremarkable, but something about the rotation of his shoulders and the bare whiteness of his arms and the fact that you were with _him,_ alone in your apartment, with no risk of intrusion…everything combined to make your pulse quicken.  You swallowed.

 

“hm…”  He took a bite of a donut, totally unaware of your distracted gaze.  “i was thinking maybe the book on familiars.  it’s all animals and junk.  you’d like that.  not boring.  lots of pictures.”

 

You looked away from his arms to give him a joking glare.  “Ok, again, _I don’t hate reading_.”

 

“oh yeah?  name one book.”

 

“Psh.  Easy.  Let’s see there’s…”  You grabbed the closest book.  “This old classic, the…the um.  Woah, wait.”  You squinted at the figures on the cover.  “Hang on.  Are these…are these even words?”

 

Sans laughed.  “those’re monster runes.  tori must’ve slipped that in by accident.”

 

You were still turning the book, trying to make sense of it.  “What does it even…?”

 

He scooted over until he sat beside you, and then started running a finger along what you assumed was the title.  “see here?  this one means ‘history.’”

 

“Woah.”  Your finger ghosted after his.

 

“this one’s ‘monsters.’”

 

“Okay.”

 

“and here it says, ‘told you reading could be fun.’”

 

You’d been so intrigued it took a full beat for you to look up at him in indignation.  He laughed, hiding behind his hands when you used the book to smack his skull lightly.

 

“Rude!”

 

“sorry, sorry, ok, no more reading jokes!”

 

Once again, he had you by your wrists, both of you flushed with mirth.  Your faces were close.  Your laughter stuttered.  Were his pupils brighter than before?  More dilated?  Because even though the lights were on, their glow seemed to fill your vision, blind you, draw you in and make you forget about the books entirely.  _We’re alone_ , you thought for the millionth time.  _Just two adults, all alone late at night.  No work in the morning, nothing to worry about, no one to walk in on us…_

 

“alright, i’ve had my fun.”  With a last grin, he dropped your hands.  “back to business.”  He had no problem turning back to the volumes and picking out one with a stylized cat slinking over the cover, but you had to blink a few times to bring yourself back.  Was this just you?  Could he not feel that dangerous, tantalizing energy?  How was he not equally distracted?

 

“H-ha, right.  Yeah.”  You forced your eyes down to the book.  “Animals and junk.”

 

You had to admit, it wasn’t a bad read.  The pages were filled with illustrations and illuminations, and the writing wasn’t at all like a textbook.  It was so interesting you even worried that Toriel had picked up a work of fiction by mistake, but Sans seemed sold by it.  He more or less forgot about the fact that this was supposed to help you learn more about your powers, and was just studying for his own pleasure.

 

“it’s crazy.  they’re like _magic megaphones_ , they just amplify it.  but then here it says magic channeled through a familiar can elicit a more refined result?  so maybe they’re more like filters?  or do they _have_ magic to contribute?”

 

“Well, look, doesn’t this say some people work better with certain species?  Maybe like…there’s a wavelength going on there.  O-or something.  I dunno.”

 

“yeah…yeah, wait, that’s a good point.  but where would the magic flow through?  let’s see, maybe there’s something in chapter four…”

 

You rested your chin in your hand and watched him for a moment.  He had that focused, energetic expression you’d come to adore, the one he only wore when he was learning.  It almost let you forget that your soul hadn’t stopped humming all this time.  You had to resist putting a hand over it, shushing it, pulling it out and _strangling_ it because it was so bound and determined to keep you from concentrating.  What was the problem?  Why were you feeling so… _dissatisfied?_ This was why you invited him in, right?  It was to help you study, right?

 

Right?

 

“wonder if catsup could show us a thing or two,” Sans chuckled to himself.

 

You dragged your stare down to the book; it showed a sort of flow-chart connecting a witch, a cat, and a plume of flame.  “Uh.  You don’t think…any of this stuff would be _dangerous_ for her, right?”

 

His face immediately tightened.  “oh.  shit.  yeah, maybe no, uh, _field_ _work_ until we’re sure.”

 

You reached across him to turn the page, and your eyes widened to see a witch with a familiar glow swirling around her chest.  “Woah…woah, Sans, look at this.”

 

“oh man.”  He quickly traced a finger through the text.  “that’s…accurate.  yeah, yeah so they got it right.  it’s through the chest.  not the heart, anatomically, but the center.  where your soul is.”

 

You gasped, “Maybe it knows more about my…?”  Without thinking, you closed your eyes and concentrated on the pulse of your soul, calling to it.  You let out a smooth breath as it faded from your chest, opened your eyes, and momentarily let your eyes rest on that yellow heart before turning back to the book.  Your finger followed his.  “Ok, so what does it say about—”

 

Sans grabbed you hand.  Your head snapped up to him.  He wasn’t looking at you.  His eyes were still trained to the page, wide and unfocused.  His grip was hard, his grin was shaky, and he was very, very blue.

 

“Sans?  Is everything—”  You stopped.  The golden light playing off his bones made you understand.  A rush of mortified heat slammed through your gut, and as you slapped a hand over your mouth your soul retreated back inside you like a spooked animal.

 

He closed his eyes, letting out the smallest breath of relief.

 

“I-I’m so sorry, I forgot, I…!”  Whenever you were with Toriel, calling your soul was standard practice.  It was just another lesson tool.  She’d never shown any signs of discomfort, but that was because she was your best friend, your teacher.  Sans was _more_ than that.  “I wasn’t thinking at all.  I’m…so, so sorry.”

 

“don’t…”  His voice sounded strained, and the fact that he still wouldn’t look at you was making you panic.  “don’t apologize, it’s…”

 

Your hand moved up to grip your hair.  “A-are you mad?  I’m sorry, I know that’s…I just thought…y’know, y-you’ve _seen_ it before, so…”

 

“no.  not like…h-heh.”

 

You tensed.  His voice wasn’t just strained, there was something else beneath it.  You looked around.  The sudden withdrawal of your soul left everything looking dim.  You looked out the window at the black, early-morning streets.  You looked at the clock:  4:12.  You looked at the books strewn around you, at the bony hand still clutching yours, at his bright cheeks and clenched jaw, and you were _alone_ with him.

 

He let out a forced laugh.  “um.  i’m just…sorry, gimme a sec.”

 

He’d seen your soul at your most scared, and he’d seen it with the safety of friends.  He’d never seen it when it was just you.  You still couldn’t quite understand the significance, what it meant to monsters, but you knew it was private.  It was _intimate_.

 

“Sans, we…sh-should we, um…”  What your voice lacked in confidence, it made up for in need.  Tentatively, you touched his arm, and just that was enough to make him shudder.  He turned to you.  He opened his eyes, met yours, and finally you could see all the distraction and suppressed desire reflected back at you.

 

“naya, i’m trying not to—”

 

Your body wasn’t going to wait for your mind to catch up.  You forced Sans to lean back with your kiss, squeezing his hand and using the other to balance as you pushed into him.  He let out a noise that could only be described as helpless.  He grabbed your arm, both to steady himself and to hold you.  You could feel it.  That broiling you’d been trying so hard to ignore.

 

You let go of his hand to grasp his face, and then went on your knees so your other hand could follow suit.  You realized you’d felt so little of his strange, perfect body.  You strayed down to his jaw, to the base of his skull, to his neck.  He choked into the kiss as you traced the breaks between vertebrae, while inside you were in awe of him.  You pulled back, with his lips following in protest.  You spent a breath staring at him, his hooded eyes and his parted teeth, before tilting your head toward his neck.  You trailed kisses from the edge of his mouth to the joint of his jaw as his breathing picked up its pace, until you finally kissed his spine.  He gasped, and you let out an involuntary whine at the way his fingers dug into your back.

 

This was dangerous, and you didn’t care.  This was sudden, and you didn’t care.  It had been too long, and you were alone, and he was _good_ and you liked him and as long as you were with him you were so, so safe.  So you wanted more.  You kissed each vertebrae.  He came a little more undone with each one, until your lips closed over the thin, curved bone of his shoulder.  He pulled at you and groaned quietly in your ear and you didn’t think you could lose yourself anymore, but you weren’t thinking at all when you pushed him backwards.  He hit the base of the couch.  He kept tugging, and the only natural thing to do was get _closer_.

 

You slung a leg over him, still breathing into his shoulder, and trapped him.  Your hands braced against the couch as you pulled back to look at him, but the hunger on his face drew you right back in.  His lips sparked against yours; his tongue wrapped around yours in a way no human tongue ever could; you could feel his ribs heave against yours.  His whole body was charged with his magic, and every bit of bare bone you touched crackled with it.  Oh, god, why had you waited so long for this?  All these nights he’d walked you home, why had you denied yourself?

 

_Two weeks…_

You dared to brush a hand over his sternum, feeling the rise and fall of each rib.  He grunted his approval, deepened the kiss, clawed at the back of your shirt.  You’d wanted him all this time, and you’d just ignored it.

 

_Two weeks…!_

 

You had to be closer.  You pushed against him, moved your head to the side of his, held him as you kissed his skull.  You felt just a moment of hesitation from him, of silence, before he flicked his tongue briefly over the edge of your ear.  It dragged a moan right out of you.  And that moment was when you felt _more_ of him.

 

Without meaning to, you tensed.  Sans froze with a short breath, hands still on your back and teeth close to your ear.  You took a moment to catch your breath and process this new feeling between your legs.

 

“…Oh,” you eventually whispered.  “You…have one of those.”

 

“na…naya.”  He was nearly panting.  His hands shook as he slowly brought them to your shoulders.  “hold on.  hold on.”

 

The break was finally giving your mind time to give its two cents.  _Two weeks_ , it kept repeating.  You felt the heat ebb a fraction as you said, “Ok, yeah, ok.  Sorry, we—”

 

“no, please…please don’t say sorry.”  He let his head fall against your shoulder, huffing out a few breathless laughs.  “please.”

 

He wasn’t letting go of you, and you didn’t want to leave.  Even with the, uh, “interruption” still pressing into your jeans.

 

“i need to ask you something.  i’ve been wanting to ask for…h-heh, fuck, a while.  and it’s, uh…it’s a hard question.”

 

You snorted.  You couldn’t help it.  Your body and your head were a mess of hormones and emotions, and that unintentional pun was a little too perfect.

 

He laughed again, sounding a bit more humored.  “ok, wait, don’t distract me.  trying to be serious.  i gotta get this out now or i’ll never be able to, ok?”

 

“Ok.  Sorr—er, I mean, go ahead.”

 

“ok.  ok, so…”  He took a breath and lifted his head, meeting your eyes.  “i’m just gonna come out and say it, ok?”

 

“Ok.”

 

“do you want to have sex?”  Before your shocked expression had a chance to form, he continued, “not now, not like…i just mean at some point.  down the road, whenever you want, just…”

 

You blinked a few times.  You were drawing a blank.

 

“because listen.  whatever your answer is, it’s not gonna change anything.  i’m not going anywhere.  and i know it just makes me sound like a horny asshole but i _swear_ i’m not asking to pressure you.  it’s the opposite.  i don’t…i don’t want to put expectations on you that you don’t want, y’know?  and if it’s _not_ something you want i don’t want to subconsciously push us toward it, and i want to take it at your pace, and—”

 

“Sans.”

 

He clacked his jaw shut.

 

“Have…have you been, like…worried about this?”

 

His pupils flickered between yours.  He slowly started running one hand up and down your arm.  “i just wasn’t sure if…that was something you still wanted, after…”

 

He didn’t have to finish his sentence.  You looked from his face, to his hand, to his body still held between your legs.  His arousal had come down while he spoke, but you still remembered how it felt.  You wouldn’t deny it had surprised you.

 

“Um…short answer?”

 

He snapped to attention.

 

“Yes.”  You gripped the front of his shirt.  “God, um…yes.  Like…a lot.”

 

The happy grin that lit his face made you want to jump right back into him, but now that you were talking, you knew you needed to get it all out.

 

“There’s just been a couple things.  And none of it’s _you_ , y’know, it’s just my shit and…”  Your blush deepened.  “Ok, look, first off, I’ve never been with a…with a, um…”

 

He waited for a moment, before raising a brow and quipping, “a monster?”

 

“With a _guy_.”

 

He turned a brighter blue.  “oh.”

 

You cast a quick glance downward that you hoped made your reservations clear.  “Yeah, so…listen.  Until now I didn’t know, um, _what_ exactly you had, but if it’s just like a…”  Your voice dropped to a hiss.  “Like, y’know, like a…it’s a penis, right?”

 

“yeah.”

 

“Right, yeah, so.  That’s something we’re uh…we’re gonna have to take slow.”

 

His grin filled with tenderness.  “’course.”

 

“There’s that.  But um…also…”  This was harder to say.  You knew nothing should be taboo, and you were the only one _making_ things taboo.  It was your own past.  You could talk about it if you wanted to.  “So…it’s only been two weeks.”

 

“yeah.”  His face softened even more.  He put a hand on your cheek.  “we can slow down.”

 

“No, I mean…it’s not just that it’s fast.  Well, it is kinda fast, sure, but I’m actually _used_ to fast and that’s…”  You frowned, leaning into his touch.  “That’s the problem, I guess.  Because that’s how it was, um…back then.”

 

“…with her?”

 

You put a hand over his.  “I’m not comparing you to…that.  There’s nothing to compare, it’s…it’s night and day, you’re so…you’re _amazing_ , Sans, you’re really amazing, and I’ve been trying so, so hard to do it differently, because I don’t want to fuck it up this time, I don’t want…I don’t…”

 

“naya, hey…”  He took your other cheek and gave you a firm look.  “you didn’t fuck anything up.  not then, not now.  you have nothing to worry about.”

 

“I _know._   Because it’s _you_ , so…it’s been harder not to get caught up, and…fuck, dammit, not now.”  Your voice faded into a grumble as tears pricked at your eyes.  Stupid, unnecessary tears.  “But yeah, I _want_ to get to that point with you, just…I don’t want this to be anything like that and…and dammit, _dammit_.”

 

Sans pulled you to him.  He wove his fingers in your hair and held you there, while you groaned in frustration and tried to pull yourself together.  He stroked your back, nuzzled into the side of your head, and murmured, “it’s ok, babe.”

 

“Why am I _crying_ so much lately, _ugh._ ”

 

He chuckled and held you tighter.

 

“I’ve just been so…frustrated, man.  I’ve been straight up _horny._ ”

 

That made him laugh.  “oh my god, _same_.”

 

You joined in, weakly at first, until you were both holding on to each other for support as you let loose a round of full, breathless laughter.  It was relief and exhaustion and affection that forced it out of you, and your soul felt the most content it had been all night.  You were still smiling when you finally moved away to sit beside him, head resting on his shoulder and fingers entwined.  Before meeting him, opening up had always been something that terrified you, but he was so reassuring.  He made you feel safe, and good.  This felt so _good._

 

“You’re a good kisser,” you mumbled after a while.

 

“you’re a _great_ kisser.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“yeah.  i’m talking like…’please have mercy’ level of kissing.”

 

You laughed and nuzzled closer.  You were finally starting to feel sleepy.  “Hey um…Sans?”

 

“mm?”

 

“With, um…with my soul.  Is that not ok, or…?”  You twisted a bit to look up at him.  “I’m just going in blind here.  You’re the monster.  Fill me in on, like…what not to do.”

 

His blush was back, but he rested his cheekbone on your head and explained, “it’s, um…maybe the right word is intense?”

 

“Oh.”

 

“it’s like…if two weeks is too soon for sex, it’s _definitely_ too soon for…”

 

You were nodding off, still trying to listen.  His words sounded a little fuzzy.  You murmured, “Mm.  Gotcha.  Slow down with the soul stuff.”

 

“…should i go home?” he whispered.

 

You tried to reply, but all that came out was quiet mumbles.  The world was fading around you, and the muted rumble of his magic, so quiet compared to the roar it had been earlier, was lulling you.

 

You heard his gentle laugh.  You felt his arm squeeze you around the shoulders, you felt him breathe close to your ear, and then all you felt was warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay also like with all the books and magic stuff and witchy shit? i'm totally just gonna make it all up so like don't go looking for citations or nothing lol
> 
> and i need u all to understand: [Sans](https://gyazo.com/6190ba39f21f4b05640d99372eabd1fb) is [totally](https://gyazo.com/7b615b8d14ab15026c668b8945185358) on the [same page.](https://gyazo.com/6b227d3afd4ea92a70be65ba820e8ac4)


	38. Shree-vahs-tuh-vuh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BORIIING, not even a HINT of make outs to be found, ugh, call the lame police. Wee-woo wee-woo, i'm under arrest for being SQUARE, ugh
> 
> [come say "why hello there kind Boy"](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

For the next week, you took things slow.  You invited him in to study every night—to _really_ study—because even with this new world of carefully-planned make-outs now opening up to you, you were still trying to focus on the task at hand.  Still, that didn’t make the focusing part any easier.  You were getting to a point where straddling him was a simple thing; resisting the urge to go further was not.  If you were being honest, part of you was frustrated to no end, but to be even honest- _er_ …you kind of liked it.

 

You liked the gradual progression, the ease with which you were becoming comfortable with him.  You liked being in control.  Hell, you even liked the frustration to a point.  Most of all, a tiny, secret part of you liked the way you left him wanting.

 

But at the moment, all of that was pushed to the back of your mind.  You were spending your lunch break at the elementary school with Toriel.  It was getting too cold for your regular seat by the playground, so you were in the faculty room.  Both of you had notebooks open on the table and were discussing plans of attack between bites.

 

“So like, it’s _implying_ that I could direct my magic through stuff, y’know?  Like…like it’s got a form, or something.  Like it’s a liquid maybe?”

 

“Fascinating.”  Toriel passed you a homemade roll to go with your homemade soup without looking up.  It had been weeks since you’d bothered to pack your own lunch.  “Perhaps we should find some sort of…oh, what is the word, it is the thing that lightning rods do.”

 

“Conductor?”

 

“Yes, yes, conductor.”  She wrote a few notes.  “Your book is about familiars, yes?  Perhaps we should get you an experimental companion.  Something to test our theories on.”

 

“Um…I’m not getting a cat just to shove magic through it.  That might be…I dunno…irresponsible?”

 

“Right, right, yes, of course.  Scratch that.”

 

You scribbled everything down in your own notebook while taking a bite of your roll, and in the pause one of the other teachers called out to Toriel on their way out of the room.

 

“Hey, Toriel, you coming tonight?”

 

You glanced at her.  She looked all at once friendly and dismissing.  “Oh, well, thank you again Roger, but I promised Frisk I would spend the evening with them.”

 

He shrugged.  “Suit yourself.  I’ll get you one of these nights though, even if I have to drag you out!”

 

They shared some polite laughter before he left, and you didn’t miss the little sigh that escaped Toriel when she turned back to her lunch.

 

“Uh, what was that?”

 

She waved a hand.  “Nothing, nothing.  The teachers here go out for drinks every now and then.  They have tried inviting me, but…you know.  I have Frisk, and now _this_.  I simply do not have the time.”

 

You frowned, looking down at the notebooks guiltily.  “Well…gosh.  That’s kinda lame.”

 

“It is nothing!”  She smiled reassuringly.  “I would much rather focus on getting your situation under control.  There will be time for relaxing later; this is of the utmost priority.”

 

“Yeah, I guess, but—”

 

“On another note,” she eluded, “I have been meaning to ask something of you, my friend.”

 

You raised a brow as she reached down to grab her purse.  “Oh yeah…?”

 

“Yes.”  She produced a checkbook and started writing.  “Frisk has been relentless in their requests for guitar lessons.  I would not want you to sacrifice your time for free, so I would like to propose an arrangement.”

 

You looked from her to the checkbook and said, “Woah, you want to pay me for lessons?  Hold on, that’s really not—”

 

“How do you spell your last name?”

 

“That’s…Tori, come on, you don’t have to…”  When she just kept staring at you unwaveringly, you sighed, “It’s Srivastava, and it’s…sorry, it’s kinda long, S-r-i-v-a-s-t-a-v-a.”

 

“And…done.”  She ripped the check with a smile.  “Will this be sufficient?”

 

Your gut dropped at the number.  “No, wait, ok, I can’t accept this.  That’s…that really is too much, Tori.”

 

“Then consider it an initial deposit.  It can pay for sheet music, supplies, anything you may need.”

 

You wouldn’t deny that the idea excited you.  An excuse to do the thing you’d always wanted to do, a break from worrying about magic…

 

“Ok, ok, listen.  I will do this.”  You had to smile along with her, but you put up a finger and continued, “ _But_.  I want to start tonight.”

 

“That sounds perfect!”

 

“So _you_ can go out with the other teachers.”

 

She blinked.  “Oh.  I…”

 

“Final offer.”

 

You struggled to keep a straight face while Toriel looked uncertain.  “Well…alright.  Yes, very well, deal.”

 

You laughed and shook her paw, saying, “Gotcha.”

 

“Ha ha.  Very clever, Anaya.”

 

* * *

 

 

Frisk was ecstatic.  They were already tuning their guitar when you arrived that evening with your case in hand, all set up on the living room floor with a plate of cookies and, of course, a scowling flower.

 

“Alright you two, I will not be late,” Toriel was saying.  She smiled at you and added, “And do not give Anaya too much trouble.”

 

“I mean, you _can_ stay out late y’know,” you assured.  “We got this.”

 

“Yes, yes, I am sure you will be fine.  But…you do have my cellphone number for emergencies, do you not?”

 

“Tori, seriously, we’ll be fine.  Go have fun.”

 

She did look excited by the time she was finally out the door, and then you were left to give Frisk a questioning grin.

 

“Well?  You ready?”

 

They were more than ready.  They’d already compiled songs they wanted to learn, instructional videos, clamps and picks and even a metronome.  Their eagerness actually made you a bit nervous.

 

“Ok, ok, lemme just…”  You set your worn case down, and you were embarrassed to realize your hands were shaking as you opened it.  You hadn’t brought out this guitar in a long, long time, and yet you’d carried it with you on all your moves.  It always ended up hidden and neglected in the back of your closet.  Seeing it was like looking at an old photograph, nostalgic and precious.  “It’s, uh, definitely gonna need some tuning.”

 

You started fiddling with the knobs, while Flowey snorted, “Eugh, it sounds like it got run over by a lawnmower.”

 

“Yup.  That happens when you leave these things alone for long enough.  They start to sound ugly.”

 

Something about that seemed to strike a chord with Flowey, and he ignored you until you were ready to start playing with Frisk.

 

Since this was going to become a regular thing, you’d decided to try and have some semblance of structure with these lessons.  You went over chords and warm-ups first before discussing any songs, and even with Frisk clamoring to start on a playlist of their own choosing, you’d already come prepared with a list of beginner music.  The abundance of classic rock and the lack of modern pop had them wrinkling their nose.

 

“Look, I’m the teacher, so if I want you to start out with some Paul Simon then you are gonna _learn_ some Paul Simon.”

 

**And _then_ can I play my songs?**

 

“Then you can play whatever the heck you want.”

 

Flowey remained quiet throughout the lesson, and you suspected that sullenness was a result of him trying to behave with Frisk around.  Considering how your last conversation with him went, you were sure he’d have something to say if the two of you were left alone at any point.

 

“Alrighty.  I think we can call it a night.”

 

Frisk pouted and shook their head.

 

“Look dude, my fingers need a break.  And have you even had dinner?  You definitely need dinner.”

 

While you were in the kitchen heating up some leftovers, you could hear a muffled conversation from the other room.  Grumbles, then silence, then more grumbles.  You felt a mixture of annoyance and dread as you thought, _What is he on about now?_

 

Flowey had managed to get in your head about Toriel, but after learning you never had anything to worry about, you were starting to suspect his sinister, I-know-something-you-don’t persona was a farce.  With a determined frown, you grabbed dinner and some plates and marched back into the living room without warning.  Sure enough, you entered in time to see Flowey snap his mouth shut and Frisk give him a warning glare.

 

You looked between them for a moment.  Was this a moment for tact or directness? 

 

“Ok.  What’s up you two.”

 

Directness won out.

 

“Who said it was any of your business?”

 

Frisk frowned at him before turning to you to sign, **Just talking.**

 

You set plates in front of them and started dishing out microwaved lasagna.  “Uh huh.  Talking about…?”

 

“None.  Of.  Your—”

 

Frisk turned to you, effectively cutting him off.  **True?** they asked.

 

“Huh?  What’re you…?”

 

They started signing quickly, looking more stressed as they went.

 

“Woah, woah, slow down, I can’t—”

 

They were already grabbing a notebook.  **Was Mom really lying?**

You tensed.  Your eyes darted to Flowey, whose face was gradually sharpening.  “…Did he say that?”

 

One corner of his mouth curled and he said, “What, you expect me to just _lie_ to them?  Like _her_?”

 

“That’s their _mom_.”

 

Frisk tapped their notebook, staring at you pleadingly.  **That doesn’t matter!  Was she??**

 

“No, no, of course she wasn’t, Flowey’s just…”  You took on a hard look as you glanced between the two of them.  “He was just…getting in my head.  And actually, on that note, what the heck was that about?  You had no proof and you just—”

 

“No _proof_?  I was telling the truth!  She was there!”  His petals fanned out as he scowled, like hackles.

 

“Yeah, but she doesn’t remember!  She…”  You stopped yourself, looking at Frisk.  “She…oh.  Oh, man, I…I don’t know what I…maybe you should ask her yourself…?”

 

Frisk just looked confused.  They trained their eyes on the ground and scrunched their brow.  They were thinking.

 

You glared at Flowey.  “Why do you do this?”

 

“What?!”

 

“Put ideas in peoples’ heads!  I talked to Toriel and she was completely up front about it, she really doesn’t remember.  She even _apologized_.”

 

Flowey was grasping for a retort, his leaves trembling and his eyes darting between yours.  He looked disbelieving.  “What…that’s…can’t you see she’s lying about _that_ too?!”

 

“Why would she?”

 

“Because she’s _always_ had something to hide!  Just like everyone else.  Just like _you_.”

 

“ _Me?_ ”  You were standing up now.  “What are you talking about?”

 

He grinned and cocked his blossom.  “You’re hiding yourself from everyone else.  All your _idiot_ friends, all the other _idiot_ humans.  You haven’t told them what you _really_ are.  You haven’t told them you’re a _freak_.”

 

You just stared at him for a moment.  “…Are you talking about my magic?”

 

“You don’t want any of them to know because you don’t want them singling you out.  You don’t want them thinking you’re _different_ , because maybe then they won’t like you.  Maybe if you keep it under wraps, they’ll keep acting like you’re cool and funny and _normal_ because they believe this lie you’re telling them.  You’re hiding the fact that you’re just a _cowar_ —”

 

Frisk slammed their notebook down.  You both jumped and looked at them.  You felt a sudden twinge of unease to see an expression that was quite unlike anything you’d seen on the teen.  It was cold, and silencing, and gone in an instant.  Their eyes had been so wide and red that once they were relaxing again, giving Flowey a disappointed frown, you had to blink to process the shift.

 

They signed something.  Flowey was completely frozen, staring at Frisk with your argument evidently forgotten.

 

Frisk sighed.  They picked up the notebook again and wrote to you, **He’s sorry.  He gets like that sometimes.  He’s trying.**

 

You were rapidly cooling off.  Your frown went slack as you read over their words a few times, until you muttered, “Do you really think that?  You think I haven’t told anyone because I’m scared of what they’ll think?”

 

Flowey finally glanced back up at you.  His sneer had wilted considerably.  “Am I wrong?”

 

You laughed a few hard, short laughs.  “You just…I don’t get you.  You know _nothing_ about me and you’re just…saying what you think will get to me.”

 

He tried to look sinister.  “That’s not—”

 

“ _Am I wrong_?” you imitated.

 

He flinched, and…was he _blushing?_   You could hardly believe it, but he looked embarrassed and angry all at once.

 

“I’ll tell everyone,” you said before he could find his voice.  “To be honest, I don’t even know why I didn’t do that in the first place.  No one told me not to, I guess I just—”  You shrugged with a smile.  “— _assumed_ that was what people did when they find out they have superpowers.”

 

Flowey was puffing up, readying a retort, but then Frisk plopped a hand on top of his blossom.  He immediately shrunk back, looking at the teen and letting his petals go limp.  You tilted your head as Frisk wrote with their free hand, **I think it’s his bedtime.**

 

“Oh.  Uh…ok then.”

 

They picked up his pot and started walking to their room, but as much as you hated to acknowledge it, you felt a twinge of guilt at the dejected look on his face.  That wasn’t fair.  _You_ shouldn’t have to be the bigger person here.  He was such a little pain in the ass, and yet every time you saw him get his fire extinguished, you just felt bad.

 

“Ugh, um…hey.  Hold on.”

 

Frisk stopped.  Flowey didn’t look at you.

 

“…I’m sorry, ok?  For losing my temper there.”

 

An awkward moment passed, and then he deliberately turned away.  He stayed silent until Frisk sighed, gave you a little smile, and walked into their room.

 

They came out to rejoin you just a few minutes later, standing and watching as you carefully packed up your guitar.  You wondered if they were going to say anything.  You didn’t make eye contact until they were sitting on the couch, tablet in hand.

 

You sat next to them.  You rubbed your neck.  The night had taken a turn for the uncomfortable, and before you could find something to say, they signed, **Thank you.**

 

“For what?”

 

They pointed to where they’d been standing with Flowey.

 

“Oh…yeah.  Yeah, I dunno, I…”  You leaned back into the cushions to watch the Youtube video they were playing.  “I just don’t like getting angry.  Makes me feel gross.  Saying sorry is better than feeling gross, y’know?”

 

They nodded.  You both watched in silence for a few minutes, until they piped up once again.

 

**Sorry.**

 

You cocked a brow at them.  “Why?”

 

**Got angry.**

 

You didn’t know what to say to that.  As you both sat quietly next to each other, descending in a Buzzfeed spiral, you remembered that strange look they’d taken on.  The expression, the sudden intensity…where had that come from?  Was that what they were referring to?

 

Was that their anger?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anaya Srivastava


	39. Undyne the Relatable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW BOUT THAT YURI ON ICE FINALE AMIRITE??????
> 
> [c'mere, hey, hey, buddy, kid, just c'mere a second, c'mere, c'mere i got somethin to show ya](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

Everyone took the news well.  Incredibly well, actually.  You hadn’t thought anyone could be more enthusiastic than the Hoepfulls, but Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys quickly proved you wrong.  Papyrus had shook your hand to point you worried it would rip off; Undyne nearly flipped you in a congratulatory suplex before Toriel intervened; Alphys starting rambling off random questions you had no answers to; and all three of them wanted to see what you were capable of.

 

“A DEMONSTRATION!  A PERFORMANCE!  A _MAGIC SHOW!!_ ”

 

“C-could you at least just tell me some of your manifestations?  I-I’ve dedicated my _life_ to studying properties of the human soul b-b-but this I’ve never really seen it in _action_ and—”

 

“Can you make SPEARS?  Want me to show you?  Wanna learn how to make SPEARS?!”

 

You were all walking to Frisk’s pick for that Sunday’s group activity, and you were almost, _almost_ regretting your decision to tell them.  The three of them surrounded you like a ring of vultures while Sans, Toriel and Frisk were left to look back at you sympathetically.

 

“Ok, woah, guys.  Guys.  I don’t…this is new to me too, alright?”

 

Papyrus clasped his hands together hopefully.  “BUT DON’T YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SHOW US?”

 

You scratched you neck and blushed.  “Well, uh…the one thing I do is kinda…well I mean, _apparently_ it’s not the politest thing, so.”

 

**She sees souls!**   Frisk turned and signed to everyone proudly, beaming at you despite your embarrassment.

 

“W-woah, _really?_ ”

 

“That’s NUTS!”

 

“OH, OH, CAN YOU SEE ME??  DO ME!!”

 

“ _No_ , hey, I can’t just—”

 

“We are still learning about her abilities.”  Toriel rescued you with a placating smile.  “In fact, helping Anaya is the very reason Frisk had for choosing this activity!”

 

That surprised you.  “Wait, what?”

 

Frisk nodded, grinned, and pointed to an upcoming building.  Upon reading the words “Animal Shelter,” you frowned and raised a brow at Toriel.  Frisk just gave you a thumbs up and a wink, which did little to reassure you.

 

“I thought I told you, I’m _not getting a cat_ ,” you hissed to the goat monster.

 

She shrugged.  “Do not look at me, it was their idea.”

 

With everyone else distracted by the prospect of playing with puppies and kittens, Sans sidled up next to you, took your hand and chuckled, “guess the cat’s outta the bag in more ways than one.”

 

The two of you hung back as the group went in.  You put a tired hand on your head and sighed, “Should I not have told them?”

 

“naw.  it’s a great idea.”  He squeezed your hand and leaned into you a bit.  “can’t hurt having some more minds on board.  two heads’re better than one and all that.  or uh, five heads.  five heads?  six heads.  seven, including yours.”

 

You snorted.  “Someone’s not great with numbers.”

 

“i take genuine offense to that.”

 

Everyone but Papyrus agreed to go through the dog ward first—the tall skeleton went along begrudgingly, while muttering something about “special attacks” and “that annoying thief.”  You walked and played with the friendly ones, and any time you passed a run with a loud, feisty occupant, Undyne would stop and bark, “Like this, babe, this is the kind I want!!”  The way Alphys would deflect and gently lead her disappointed wife away made you think this was a regular discrepancy between them.

 

Sans crouched next to you as you were saying hello to a sweet old pit bull.  She licked your hand as you told him, “Y’know, I had a dog who looked just like her when I was younger.”

 

“didn’t know you had any pets.”

 

“Yup.  Just the one.  Old Lady.  I’d call her Old Lady even when she was, like, a puppy.  Dunno why.”

 

He offered his own hand for the dog to sniff.  “sounds like you were a cute kid.”

 

“The cutest,” you snickered.  “For a while I tried to convince my parents to call her Orange Lady, even though she was white like this.”

 

“uh, how come?”

 

“Oh, y’know, cuz like.  My thing.  My magic.  Didn’t know that’s what it was back then, obviously, but she was orange.  Her soul, I guess.”

 

You glanced at him and were surprised to see him looking completely mystified.  “you…she had a color?”

 

“Um, yes…?  Is that weird?”

 

He kept staring at you for a moment, before turning back to the dog with a concentrated expression.  “animals aren’t supposed to have those.”

 

“But…I saw it for sure.”

 

“maybe monsters just can’t see them.”  He didn’t look doubtful; just curious.  “can you see this one’s color?”

 

You tilted you head pensively before squinting at the dog.  She grinned back, tongue lolling and tail wagging, but…nothing.  “Huh,” you murmured.  “That’s…weird.  Maybe my memory’s kinda…”

 

He shrugged.  “well.  this is why we’re here, right?  figuring this out.”

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, maybe there’s just something I’m missing.”

 

Undyne, Alphys, Toriel and Frisk decided to stay with the dogs a bit longer (mostly due to Undyne trying to negotiate with her wife and Frisk doing the same with their mother) while you and the skeleton brothers made your way to the cats, much to Papyrus’ relief.  Ironically, while the dogs had adored the tall skeleton in spite of his disinterest, the cats were repelled by him in spite of his affection.

 

“WHY DO THEY KEEP RUNNING AWAY??” he demanded, his booming voice immediately eliciting a growl from the tabby he was trying to pet.

 

“gotta let ‘em come to you, bro.”

 

He pouted.  “CATSUP LIKES IT WHEN I PICK HER UP…”

 

“I think Catsup just likes _you_ ,” you said sympathetically.

 

“catsup likes everyone.”

 

You looked at Sans to see he was having quite the opposite effect of his brother.  He already had one curled up on his lap, with two more rubbing up against his legs.

 

“How’re you doing that?” you asked, while in the background Papyrus continued his quest to befriend at least one cat.

 

He shrugged.  “dunno.”

 

“Oh c’mon.  There’s gotta be some kinda trick.”  You frowned when a cat walked right past your offered hand to join Sans’ posse.  “Look at that, it didn’t even notice me!”

 

“i just get them, y’know?”

 

“No, actually, I don’t know.  Cats are like…an enigma.”

 

“maybe it’s cuz i’m just two or three degrees from being a cat.”

 

“Uh…what?”

 

“think about it.”  He leaned back, eyes closed as he casually scratched under a cat’s chin.  “my lifestyle is seventy percent sleeping, twenty percent eating, and ten percent licking my own asshole.”

 

You burst out laughing.  “ _Sans._ ”

 

“ok, y’got me.  don’t actually have an asshole.”

 

You both sat snickering for a few moments, watching Papyrus unintentionally chase a cat up a scratching post.  You almost jumped when you felt Sans’ fingers slip between yours.  You smiled at him, at the cat still snoozing in his lap and the others sitting contentedly at his feet, and you said, “You are kinda like them.”

 

“hm?”

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I dunno, you’re…”  You turned to keep watching Papyrus, trying to think of an explanation.  “You’re…soft like them?”

 

He chuckled.  “that’s one way of putting it.”

 

“I mean your attitude.”  Papyrus was tempting the cat with a mouse toy.  You continued, “You’re just kinda gentle, and quiet, and, like…lazy.  But in a really good way!” you clarified when he started laughing.

 

“lazy _is_ pretty much my brand.”

 

“You know what I meant,” you scoffed.  You scooted a little closer, moving slowly so as not to disrupt the cats.  “Being around you is just…relaxing, I guess.”

 

His cheeks were turning a bit blue, but before he could reply, an old Persian hopped up to your lap and promptly started grooming.  Sans smiled.  “well whaddya know.”

 

You inadvertently tensed.  “What…what…ok what do I do, how do I keep him here, what should I—”

 

“just relax.”  He squeezed your hand; you met his eyes and felt a matching blush warm you.  “you can’t force it with cats.  gotta let ‘em come to you.”

 

You fell still.  You tried to be casual and watched him chew at the mats in his grey fur for a few moments, until he looked up at you and blinked.  He was purring when he resumed his licking.  You felt a swell of happiness as you gave his ear a scratch and whispered, “Oh _shit_ , did you see that?”

 

“yup.”

 

“That was a good thing, right?  That was like a cat high-five, it totally was.”

 

Sans started to laugh, accidentally startling a few of the cats.

 

“What?  What?”  You were grinning too.  “Why you gotta laugh at my victory?”

 

“it’s just…”  He tugged your hand closer, eventually resting your knuckles against his teeth.  “you’re cute when you learn things.”

 

You stared at him for a breath, feeling your cheeks get warmer and warmer, and then you moved your hand to cup his cheek and started pulling him toward you.

 

“LOOK SANS, LOOK NAYA, LOOK LOOK LOOK!!”

 

You froze and spun away, still blushing.  The cats you and Sans had accumulated ran for cover when Papyrus stomped toward you.  He had a particularly tolerant kitten curled up in his arms, eyes wide and curious.

 

“I FOUND ONE THAT’S JUST LIKE CATSUP!  HE PURRS NO MATTER WHAT I DO! WATCH, WATCH THIS.”  He held the kitten end to end, making it stretch out like it was flying.  All it did was close its eyes contentedly.  “SEE??”

 

“wow,” Sans chuckled.  “think we found catsup’s long lost bro.”

 

“REMEMBER WHEN WE FIRST GOT HER?” Papyrus went on, bringing the kitten close to his face to nuzzle it.  “WE DROVE OVER AN HOUR JUST TO PICK HER OUT FROM THAT SPECIAL FACILITY!”

 

You tilted you head.  “Special…?”

 

Before he could elaborate, you all turned to a knock on the window.  Toriel and Frisk were waving at you from the hall, along with Alphys and a very dejected Undyne.  The three of you stepped out to meet them as Toriel whispered, “Undyne is feeling a bit, ah…disappointed.  We were thinking it may be time to depart.”

 

Frisk signed something about Unydne, to which she immediately responded, “I am not CRANKY, ok?!  I just think it’d be cool to have something to run with that can also make me look twice as tough, is that really so much to—”

 

“O-okay, yup, y-yeah, listen sweetie we’re all hungry so let’s just t-talk about this later.”  Alphys patted her wife’s back.  “You want a hoagie?  Huh?  Would that make you feel better?”

 

Sullenly, she muttered, “Maybe…”

 

* * *

 

 

“I dunno, guess I just never saw myself as a cat person?  But then you get a cat in your lap and they’re all purring and junk and you’re just like ‘oh I totally get it now.’”

 

“that was basically my first experience with cats, too.”

 

Sans had walked you home after a full evening of hoagies, hanging out with everyone, and continually talking Undyne down from that “I-need-a-puppy” ledge.

 

“Y’know, Tori even visited the idea of getting me a cat.  For magic stuff.”

 

He snorted.  “oh, i’m convinced she’d do anything if she thought it’d help teach a lesson.”

 

“But that’s crazy, right?  Like, I can’t own a pet.  I move around so much and I work all day and…I dunno.  It’s a whole other responsibility to take on.”

 

“cats are pretty low maintenance though.”

 

“Yeah, but…”  You paused and raised a brow at him.  “Hang on.  Do _you_ think it’s a good idea?”

 

He shrugged.  “i dunno.  according to that book it could help with your magic.  and, uh…”

 

“…And?”

 

 

“i guess, uh.  having a cat’s helped me.”

 

You watched his expression for a moment before saying, “Helped you with—”

 

Suddenly, a crash of trashcans made you jump and look around for the source of the noise.  You’d reached the dingy concrete courtyard outside your apartment.  The streetlamp offered enough light to make the cluster of tipped cans easy to spot, but you felt uneasy to see that no one was near them.

 

“Uh…” you muttered.  “H-how did they—”

 

“cat.”

 

Sure enough, when you squinted against the darkness and focused on the trashcans, you saw a black shape slink out of the spilled garbage.  It shook out its long fur and hopped atop an upright can, looking all too casual for the mess it caused.

 

Sans chuckled to see you put a relieved hand on your chest.  “thought you liked cats now.”

 

“I was startled,” you defended.  “And I’ve never even seen strays around here.  Guess I just haven’t noticed…?”  You watched it for a few more moments.  He wasn’t paying attention to the two of you, licking one paw and swooshing his tail gently over the tin lid.

 

“heh.  that guy’s cool as a cucumber, isn’t he?”

 

“Yeah.  Look at him.  He doesn’t even care.  You know littering could get you _arrested_.”  The last part you’d called out to the cat.  He went so far as to turn in the opposite direction, ignoring you so pointedly you had to laugh.

 

“you think he’s cold out here?”

 

“Dunno.”  You watched its tail swing back and forth like a pendulum.  “Maybe I should put out a blanket or something.”

 

“he’s probably hungry, too.”

 

You finally caught his drift and turned to frown at him.  “Hey, no, nope.  Not taking in a stray.  No way dude.”

 

Sans tried to look innocent.  “wasn’t sayin’ that.  i’m just sayin’ he looks like a cool guy who could use some help, that’s all.”

 

“Sure you were.”  You smirked at him as you both ascended the stairs to your apartment.  Despite your dismissals, you kept unconsciously looking down to the pile of garbage.  The cat was still aloof, staring at everything but you, but when you threw him one last glance before going inside, you could swear you saw his reflective eyes finally turn your way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guest starring: a cool guy!!!!!


	40. The Rise of Catsup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she....will Rise
> 
> wow this is the last chapter of 2016, huh? good ffucking riddance
> 
>  
> 
> [come say "whistly howdy doo"](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

_These sheets are too thick.  My hair is too short.  This room is too big the smell is too strong this feels too real, too real, too real._

 

Too wrong.

 

You were frozen in the bed, staring at the woman lurking at the foot of it.  Thick brown hair, full red lips, long black nails, sullen empty eye sockets.  She staggered forward.  Her movements were heavy and disjointed.  Your thoughts were heavy and disjointed.

 

Couldn’t you stop her?  Hadn’t you stopped her before?  That’s right.  That’s right.  Your chest had opened, had screamed in protest and kept her at bay and you’d thrown Cody against the wall.  You’d tossed him away.  You’d tossed her away.  You’d _stopped_ her.

 

Do it again.  Concentrate.  Remember that dark night and that flash of blue.  Remember when you’d watched as a man was thrown through the air, his limbs flailing and his body crunching.  Remember when she’d betrayed you.  Remember, even though you don’t want to.  Remember so it won’t happen again.  Reach out for that oily, festering shape at the center of her chest.  It was gray, it was frightening…hadn’t it been lovely at some point?  Hadn’t it been like wine, deep and rich and beautiful?  But now it was part of a monster.  Now it was ugly, and you just had to grab it, you just had to throw her, to the wall, to the ceiling, to the floor.  Stop her.  _Hurt her_ …

 

How…?  How had you…?  You could feel a ripping in your chest, a continuous tearing, an ache amidst the pounding, pounding, pounding, but…you dug your hands inside.  You sunk your fingers in the flesh between the ribs.  That was where it lived.  That was where you’d find it.  You searched and panicked as she stepped closer, closer, her knees creaking against the mattress as she crawled toward you.  You pulled your hands away and sticky ribbons of dull yellow light clung to them, stringing out from your chest, weak and limp and useless.

 

It wasn’t working, she wasn’t stopping.  Oh god.  No, no, no, you didn’t know enough, you didn’t understand enough but you were _trying_ , you’d done it before.  You’d done it once.  You’d hurt him.  You could hurt her.  Hurt her.  Hurt her, _please, please just stop…_

_Please…!_

…You woke up.  You _woke up_.

 

You were clawing at the front of your shirt, chafing the skin.  You could hardly breathe.  Your face was wet and salty.  You’d sweat through your sheets; it was dripping from your hair.  You were a mess, and you woke up.  You were awake.  You were here, and this was your room, and five years had gone by, and you could hardly breathe.

 

 _Look at the clock_.  3:31.  _Look at your hair._   Long.  _Look at your room_.  Messy.  You just had to keep yourself centered.  You just had to take deep breaths.  You just had to count down from ten and keep your eyes wide, wide open.

 

You rose to sit up with your forehead on your knees.  You clutched the sides of your head and continued to pant.  “Fuck,” you hissed.  “Fuck, fuck, _fuck…_ ”

 

You knew they wouldn’t go away overnight.  You knew that just because you were happy, just because you were moving on, just because you weren’t alone anymore, you weren’t cured.  You _knew_ that, and you should’ve been prepared for it, but maybe…maybe some cautious part of you had thought that…had _hoped_ that…

 

You started to shake.  You didn’t like crying after a nightmare; it always felt like giving in to it.  So you fought it.  You wouldn’t let yourself go completely, but you trembled.  You tensed.  You clutched your legs, your face twisted, and a whine forced its way out your lungs.  It was several minutes of fighting before you’d gathered enough control to have a coherent thought.

 

_I need help._

 

You grabbed your phone.  You could hardly see through the tears, but you opened it.  You typed a short message, you sent it, you clutched the phone against your forehead and kept biting through the sobs.

 

***You there?**

You felt relief and irrational shame at the sound of his reply.

 

***everything ok?**

***Sorry to wake you**

 

You ducked your head again, your chest heaving.

 

***Can I call you?  Please?**

 

The incoming call was nearly immediate, and you had to give yourself a few rings before answering.  You’d been asking on instinct.  You needed him, but you didn’t know what to say.

 

“…Hey,” you managed to croak.

 

“naya?  naya are you ok?”  His voice sounded rough with sleep, and you drank in the sound of it like medicine.  You managed to take a deep breath.

 

“Hi, um…n-no.  No, I’m…”

 

“…naya?”

 

You swallowed.  Shakily, you whispered, “I had a nightmare, and…and I’m…I don’t…”  Your voice was getting tighter and tighter.  “I d-don’t know why I wanted to call you, and…”

 

“ _naya…_ ”  Every time he said your name, it brought you a little closer to sanity.  You bit your lip and squeezed the phone with both hands.  You wanted him to say it again.  Maybe that was all you needed.

 

“I’m sorry.  I’m sure you’re tired, I’m sorry.”

 

“i’m on my—”  He stopped himself, took a breath.  “can i come over?”

 

That threw you off enough to bring you down even more.  “Wh…right now?”

 

“you don’t sound…you shouldn’t be alone.  i get it, so…”

 

“I-I…um, yes, ok.”

 

“ok?”

 

“Ok, I’ll just…”

 

He hung up, and for a moment you stared numbly at the phone.  You hadn’t planned on or expected that.  And you were a mess.  And he would see you like this.  And no one had _ever_ seen you like this, you’d always gone through it alone, so—

 

You heard a knock on the bedroom door.

 

“ _AGH,_ Jesus _—”_

 

“ _sorry_ , sorry, sorry, it’s me, shit, it’s me.”

 

You held your chest and breathed through the shock.  “ _S-Sans!?_   Holy shit, you—you startled me, fuck.”

 

“fuck, i know, i’m sorry, that was stupid, that was bad.”  Cautiously, the door opened.  He snuck through wearing ratty sweats, a t-shirt, and a worried expression.

 

You watched him for a moment, words failing you.  You could only imagine how you must’ve looked:  sheets a mess; hair standing on all ends; eyes wide and surprised and gaunt with exhaustion.  Instinctually, you covered yourself.  You shook you head and said, “I-I’m sorry, god, um…it’s late, I know, and—”

 

Sans was suddenly at your bedside.  Before you could process anything, he was handing you a glass of water.  You looked at him and he gazed back and he was _pained_.

 

“drink,” he murmured.  “step one.”

 

Quietly, you obeyed.  When you were finished he set the glass on the nightstand for you, and feeling the chill spread from your throat to your stomach steadied you even more.  The sensation seemed to blur the memory of the nightmare.

 

Sans was looking at the mess that was your bed.  “do you have clean sheets?”

 

“Um…no, but I, um, I-I have a comforter.  I think.  In the closet.”

 

He nodded, walked over, and rummaged around the top shelf until he found a thick blanket.  When he brought it back he asked, “can i…?”

 

You blinked.  “Oh.  Oh, sure, yeah, I’m…I’m decent under here.”

 

A smile ghosted over his face.  “heh.  good to know.”  He helped you tug away the sheet without making you get up, and then pulled the fresh comforter over you.  They were such small adjustments, insignificant things, but you felt cooler.  You felt more awake.  You felt less afraid.

 

“I…thank you,” you murmured, watching your hands spread over the blanket.

 

“don’t sweat it.”

 

You felt his eyes on you for a moment.  You glanced at him, at his hands resting close to yours on the bed.  He hadn’t tried to touch you this whole time, but they seemed tense.

 

“…is it always the same one?”

 

You bunched the blanket between your fingers and bit your cheek.  “…Yeah.”

 

Both of you were speaking so quietly.  Both unsure, both hesitant and careful.  You didn’t know what you wanted and he didn’t know what to do.

 

“Sans?”

 

“yeah?”

 

“Will you stay?”  You weren’t looking at him.  You were still shaking a little, and even though the dream was subsiding it hadn’t left your system.

 

“yeah, yes.  of course.”  He stood frozen for a breath, hands hovering over your bed like he didn’t know how to proceed.  “should i just—”

 

You moved over to make room.

 

Awkwardly, he started to climb on top of the comforter.

 

“No, no, you can…just…here, just get in.”  You kept avoiding his eyes as you reached over and lifted the blanket.

 

“oh.  right.”

 

You both took a moment getting settled.  When you fell still, you were facing each other on your sides, hands rested close together on the pillows.  You weren’t touching, but you could instantly feel the added warmth.

 

“you good?” he asked softly.

 

“Yeah.  This is good,” you whispered back.  “Just…right here.  I don’t think I could…”  You squeezed the pillow, his fingers just inches away.  “I’m feeling…I dunno, wired right now?”

 

“i understand.”

 

“And, um…y’know, I might not even fall back asleep…?  I-I don’t, a lot of the time.  I just don’t wanna risk…um…”

 

“it’s ok, naya.  i’m staying.”

 

You finally met his eyes, and the worry, affection, tenderness and understanding you found there was the final ingredient to his remedy.  You exhaled.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

He studied you for a moment.  “…why?”

 

“You’re better at this than me.”  You glanced at the empty glass on the nightstand, at the comforter, and then back at Sans.  “You knew what to do.  Usually I just end up being…useless.  I wallow, y’know?”

 

Now he was the one looking away.  His eyes fell down, his smile dimmed, and after a few moments he murmured, “heh.  lotsa practice.”

 

You stared at him.  “Wh…what?”

 

“i didn’t tell you how i got catsup, did i?”

 

You kept watching him as he turned over to face the ceiling.  He put his hands on his chest and took a moment to speak again, his pupils illuminating the edges of bone that formed his eye sockets.

 

“N…no.”  You edged a bit closer, enough to brush your fingers on his sleeve.  “You didn’t.”

 

“it was about a year after we got up here.  more like nine months, give or take.  things were, uh…complicated.  heh.  lots going on, y’know?  lots to think about, lots to take care of.  so much that i didn’t really…”  He closed his eyes, his smile still and sad.  “i, uh…guess i forgot to take care of myself.”

 

You’d seen this look so many times without understanding it; this quiet story hidden behind the grins and wordplay.

 

“things were getting better for monsters at that point, just a little.  so everyone else was happy.  i should’ve been happy.  i had everything going for me, more than i had in a long time, so i couldn’t tell anyone that i just…wasn’t.”  He shrugged, opening his hands in a resigned motion.  “and i ended up pushing everyone away.  papyrus, all our buds, frisk, even…even, uh…”  The corners of his mouth turned down and he opened his eyes, still staring upward. 

 

You could recognize that breed of regret when you saw it.  “…Even Tori?”

 

He sighed.  “…yeah.  even tori.”

 

A moment of hesitation, then you let yourself reach over and touch his shoulder.  The magic was muted, barely there, accentuating the bone under his shirt.  He took a breath before turning to you.  He smiled appreciatively, you smiled back, and gently he took your hand and brought it to rest on his chest, holding it there before continuing.

 

“paps noticed.  course he did.  heh.  i think…i think he always did, and he was always trying to help me.  in his own way.  always trying to get my out of the house, nagging me, cooking for me.”  He chuckled fondly.  “dunno who he got that from.”

 

“Mm.  Not you, certainly.”

 

He snorted, gave you a chastising grin and agreed, “nope, not me.

 

“not sure where he came up with the idea i needed a pet, but he started dropping hints whenever i’d get low.  i think he was probing, seeing what i’d like, and when i didn’t flat out refuse a cat he started doing research.”

 

“And he found Catsup?”

 

“not catsup, but the people she came from.  a, uh…a sorta rescue.”  He was running his thumb slowly along the back of your hand, jaw working as he tried to choose his words.  “it was an organization that places animals with, uh…with veterans.”

 

You stared at him, the implication sinking in.  “You mean like…therapy animals.”

 

“yup.”  You could tell it was a bit difficult for him to disclose this.  “decent people.  when they heard we were monsters, they agreed to see us right away.  if i’m bein’ honest, at first i just thought i’d…y’know…humor paps.  didn’t wanna disappoint him, but i didn’t think it’d help, either.”

 

“But…”  You smiled a bit, raising a brow at him.  “…then you met Catsup.”

 

“i met Catsup,” he chuckled.

 

“The love of your life.”

 

“the love of my life.”  You both laughed quietly.  “i’ll be honest, i was sulking the whole time.  paps was trying so hard, meeting all these cats, but i just hung back.  wallowed.  and then, outta nowhere, she got on my lap.  she actually pushed at my hand with her head.  she _made_ me pet her, and then when paps came over, she loved him, too, and…”

 

“The rest is history.”

 

“that’s right.”

 

You were quiet for several moments, the nightmare safely at the back of your mind.  You felt better, you felt like he told you that story to make you feel better, but he wasn’t finished.

 

“what i’m saying is…”  Sans turned over toward you, still just holding your hand, still maintaining his distance.  “i wasn’t always…here.  you’ve got me at my best.  no, not even my best, more like…my medium.”

 

Your eyes were trapped in his.  He was squeezing your hand just a bit harder.

 

“i get it.  i really, really get it.  so whenever you need me to come over and keep your mind off shit, or if you just don’t wanna go back to sleep, i’ll…”

 

You were starting to shake again, curling toward him as your chest tightened and pulling your joined hands close.

 

“you’re amazing, naya.  i’m _lucky_.  i’m so, so lucky.”  He reached over with his free hand to lightly, carefully brush away the tears you hadn’t noticed.  “and i want you where you are now, and where you’ll be.”

 

You weren’t sure what to say.  You weren’t sure what to think.  But you brought his hand to your trembling lips and held it there, letting your hair tumble over your eyes and through his arms, and you whispered, “Thank you.”

 

As you laid in silence, shivering and focusing on the sound of his breath, he moved his hand from his cheek to your hair.  You lost track of time as he ran his fingers through it, slowly and soothingly.  You gradually moved close enough that you could feel the warm breath from his nasal cavity brush against your head.  How was he doing that?  Breathing?  With no lungs, no body, how was he alive and breathing and _there?_   You wondered at that, at his life and his impossibility and that no, _you_ were the lucky one, until you fell into a black sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i appreciated that you guys seem to really like cats cuz see, i really like cats too so like any fic i write is gonna be pretty generous in the cat department, cats out the wazoo
> 
> and all you boys conspiring that catsup is a therapy cat? con-figgidy-firmed.


	41. "TOUCHDOWN!!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i keep a calendar document that lists plot points so i get a sense of what the real life pacing would be like, and i checked it and was all "oh shit oh right we're at Thanksgiving, haha let us not forget." i almost forgot, is what i'm saying.
> 
> [c'mere jus c'mere a sec it'll be cool c'mere](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

Sans was waiting for you to finish getting ready before heading to Toriel’s, bemused as you asked, “Like…like do I have to look _nice_ , or…?”

 

“you’re the human here, babe.  you’ve got…what, twenty years on me?”

 

You were looking at your reflection; flannel shirt, jeans, and boots.  Simple.  You frowned.  “Yeah, ok, that’s fair and all, but my parents weren’t ever into the whole turkey-day scene.”

 

“oh yeah?”  Sans came up behind you to look in the mirror, his grin just reaching over your shoulder.

 

“I mean…it’s a super, super American holiday.  More my scene than theirs, so anything we did was for little Naya’s sake.  They’d make a baby-sized turkey, and that was it.  And even then I was kinda lukewarm on it.”

 

“mm.”  When he wrapped his arms around your waist, you were just distracted enough to turn from your reflection and smile back at him.  “i like it.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“yeah.  just a whole holiday dedicated to food and naps.”

 

You snorted.  “Perfect for you.”

 

He gave you a squeeze, pulled away, and started leading you to the door while assuring, “we’ll warm you up to it.”

 

You smiled back, until freezing and saying, “Wait, are we taking a shortcut?”

 

“i mean, we’re already running kinda late, so—”

 

“One sec.”

 

You bustled past him out the door to grab something from the landing, rushed back to the kitchen, ran the sink and rummaged through the cupboards, and then returned to the landing.  Sans watched it all with a confused expression, before you set the now-full water bowl and dish of tuna back on the ground.  You refused to look at his enormous grin. 

 

“really?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“ _really?_ ”

 

“ _Shut up_.”  You ducked behind your hair as you rejoined him inside, blushing and hiding a smile.

 

He watched you for a moment, positively beaming, before snickering, “how soon ‘til we’re settin’ him up with catsup?”

 

“ _Oh-my-god-shut-up_.” 

 

You dragged him through the door as he laughed.  You were expecting it, but the rush of disorientation that came with the jump still threw you off.  You had to stop, blink, rub your head and take a breath, but then you were looking up at the cheerful scene that was Toriel’s apartment.

 

She’d gone all out on decorations:  streamers crisscrossed over the ceiling; any pillows or throws in the living room had been swapped with autumn-themed replacements; and the dining room table sported a beautiful, overflowing cornucopia.  That combined with the incredible smells wafting from the kitchen instantly lifted your spirits.

 

“Hey, it’s SANAYA!”  Undyne was grinning up at you as she filled glasses with what you assumed was champagne.

 

“H-hi guys!”  Alphys was right beside her, placing silverware.  “Happy Thanksgiving!”

 

Just as you raised a hand in greeting, you were knocked back by a hug.  You let out a grunt as Frisk nuzzled their cheek against your shoulder, crushing you with surprising gusto.

 

“Woah, jeez, hey,” you gasped, giving them a winded smile as they roped one arm around to pull Sans in.

 

“happy t-day, kiddo,” he chuckled.  “your mom still cookin’?”

 

They pulled back to sign, **Almost done!** while letting you fully appreciate their outfit; a dress with a skirt fashioned like turkey tail-feathers, complete with wings connecting the sleeves to the bodice.

 

Slowly, you signed, **You look great, Frisk!** The continuous practice with the Hoepfulls was doing wonders for your comprehension, but actually talking back was a challenge.

 

Frisk laughed in delight and pulled you in for one last hug, before turning to skip back toward the kitchen.

 

“Ok, I’m already having more fun.”

 

“told ya,” Sans chuckled, taking your hand to follow Frisk.

 

The kitchen was an organized mess, with pots and dishes filling every available space.  Toriel and Papyrus—wearing matching turkey-themed aprons—were bustling amidst it all, with Frisk darting under their arms.  Once she noticed you, Toriel wiped off her paws and trilled, “Anaya!  Sans!  How wonderful to see you, my friends!”

 

“Hey, Toriel,” you replied into her embrace.  “Wow.  The smell in here is…wow.”

 

She turned to give Sans an equally warm hug while laughing, “Why, thank you!  I hope the taste will measure up!”

 

“don’t think you gotta worry about that, t.”

 

“SANS IS RIGHT,” Papyrus said from his post at the crockpot.  “EVEN WITH WEEKS OF TRAINING ALREADY ADDED TO MY REPETOIRE, I’M NOWHERE _NEAR_ YOUR PROWESS, YOUR MAJESTY!”

 

She waved her hand in what looked an awful lot like false modesty while excusing, “Oh, you know, once you become an old lady like me, you learn a thing or two.”

 

“WOW!  DO YOU THINK I’LL BE COOKING LIKE YOU WHEN I’M AN OLD LADY??”

 

“I do not doubt it for a minute, dear.”

 

Frisk was suddenly shoving two baskets of rolls in your hands and two more in Sans’, pointing toward the dining room, and just like that you were pulled into the preparations.  You helped relay finished food; helped set the table; helped out in the kitchen.  It was rushed and frantic, but in the best possible way.  Everyone was laughing and chatting all the way up to the point when you all took your seats, and finally, you started to understand what it was people liked about Thanksgiving.

 

The food was, of course, incredible, nothing like the simple little bird you’d made do with every year.  There was green-bean casserole, yams with roasted marshmallows, mashed potatoes with gravy, secret-ingredient-stuffing (“snails, probably,” Sans had whispered to you), a huge, glistening, juicy turkey, and more.  As with all of Toriel’s cooking, you felt the effects down to your soul.  Combine that with your resolve to say “To hell with it” and indulge in some champagne, and soon you were laughing louder than you had in years.

 

“Alright, everyone, alright!” Toriel called eventually, tapping her glass with a fork.  She’d been glowing all through dinner; she was in her element.  “Let us go around the table and state the thing we are most grateful for this year.”

 

Frisk and Papyrus raised their hands immediately.

 

“Now wait a moment.”  Her sweet red eyes turned on you.  “This is Anaya’s first time celebrating with us.  Perhaps she should start!”

 

You froze, a bite of it-might-be-snails stuffing halfway to your mouth.  You coughed.  “Oh.”

 

“Yeah, great idea!”

 

“FINE.  BUT I GET TO GO NEXT.”

 

“L-let’s hear it, Naya!”

 

You looked around at their friendly faces, blushing from shyness and champagne, until you saw Sans’ encouraging smile.  You knew what you would say, as embarrassing as it was. 

 

“Um,” you started.  You looked down at your lap, fiddling with the napkin.  “Just…just this, y’know?  Meeting all of you.  I didn’t really, um, have friends before meeting you, so…yeah.  That’s my thing.”  You hid behind your hair.  “Being friends with you guys.”

 

There was silence for a moment.  Then everyone started clamoring at once.

 

“MINE TOO, THAT WAS MINE, NAYA WAS MY THING I SAID IT FIRST—”

 

“DORK, that was gonna be mine—!”

 

“I-I-I…w-was really glad to meet you t-t-t—”

 

Frisk almost stuck their elbow in the potatoes leaning over to sign in everyone’s faces, **Woah woah woah we were friends first, _I_ get to say it!**

You gaped at them all in confusion.  As they argued, Toriel placed a huge paw on your shoulder and giggled, “How silly, I was _also_ going to give thanks for Anaya!”

 

“Wh…”  They started to quiet down as you continued to stare.  “You all…”

 

Under the table, Sans put his hand over yours.  You turned to him, to his warm grin and bright eyes, and he said, “same here.”

 

Maybe it was the food, maybe it was their smiling faces trained on you, maybe it was the alcohol in your unaccustomed veins, but you sniffed.  You wiped your eyes in embarrassment and mumbled, “Shoot, h-ha, um…wow.  That’s really…I didn’t think…”

 

They all cooed and laughed and got up from their seats to crowd around you, holding you with scaly, furry, and bony arms, and as you joined in on the laughter you wondered how on earth you’d ever gotten by without them.

 

* * *

 

 

Half of your friends were asleep by the time Toriel was getting the pies ready.  Papyrus was tucked up in the armchair while Undyne and Alphys were taking up the couch, all full and snoozing.  The only one unaccounted for was Frisk, but just as you noticed their absence you caught them quietly taking a plate of leftovers to their room.

 

“I’m dozing off just looking at them,” you murmured from the dining room table, your chin in your hands and your eyes drooping.

 

“told ya.  nothin’ but food and naps.”

 

“Sure wish they had another couch.”

 

“mm.”  Sans agreed for a sleepy moment, before lifting his head and saying, “well, i mean.  are you _really_ itchin’ for a nap?”

 

“I’d _kill_ for a nap.”

 

He chuckled and jerked his thumb toward the front door.  “because, uh…there’s a couch just an apartment away.”

 

Your groggy mind brightened at the suggestion.  “Oh hey.  Smart.”

 

He grinned.  “hey, t,” he called, soft enough not to disturb your friends, “we’re gonna pop next door for some z’s.”

 

She popped her head around the corner, wiping some flour off her cheek and whispering, “Sweet dreams!”

 

Hand in hand, you both snuck out the door and down the hall, entering the skeleton brother’s apartment.  As you went Sans asked, “so is the nap thing always part of it, or are we just lazy?”

 

“Pretty sure it’s tradition.  Apparently turkey actually has like…narcotics in it?  Maybe?  I think I heard something like that?”

 

A sweet meow greeted you as soon as you walked in, and Catsup trotted out from the kitchen to wind between your legs.  Sans picked her up and cradled her as he pointed toward the couch.  “i’ll get this lil beast her dinner, you start gettin’ your nap on.”

 

You absentmindedly grabbed the remote and turned on the TV as you listened to the clatter of cat food.  You took a seat with a contented sigh, and you just felt _good._   Almost fuzzy.  Emotionally and physically full.  You left it on football and laid down, only then realizing that one of Sans’ jackets was thrown across the cushions.  You could move it, grab a pillow instead, or…oh.  It smelled like him.

 

He came back to see your face buried in the coat.  He snorted, “uh…y’know, i can just get you a blanket.”

 

You looked at him over the jacket, still breathing it in.  He always wore the same getup, a t-shirt with either track shorts or sweats—sweats today—and somehow, _somehow_ , on that particular day, you found it quite flattering.

 

“Do _you_ want a blanket?”

 

Why did your voice sound like that?  Lower than usual?  You saw his face tense almost imperceptibly.  He came over to you and sat at the opposite end of the couch, by your feet, not taking his eyes off you.  You looked back.

 

“uh…football, huh?”

 

“Background noise.”  Your voice was still weird, and you were still staring.

 

The way his jaw moved made it look like he was swallowing, but that was silly.  He was a skeleton.  You were pretty sure he didn’t work like that.  “you gonna…go to sleep then?”

 

You blinked.  “I mean.  We could just…watch this.  For a minute.”  You turned to the TV and scooted forward on the couch, leaving a space between you and the backrest.  When he didn’t move, you glanced at him, your mouth and nose still hidden in the jacket.

 

He was blue.  His pupils were flickering from the couch to the TV and maybe he wasn’t meaning to, but he was _looking_ at you.  And you didn’t mind at all.

 

“C’mere,” you murmured.

 

Slowly, he lowered himself.  There was enough room and you were both small enough that he wasn’t pressed to you completely, but you could feel the stomach-like curve of his magic against your back.  He propped his head on one arm and carefully rested the other over your waist.  You were getting less and less sleepy.

 

“do you have any idea what’s goin’ on?” 

 

You assumed he was talking about football.  “Absolutely not.”

 

“so the one guy…he gets the ball.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“but the other guys _want_ the ball.”

 

“Mm…”  You moved your legs back a bit to fit them against his.  You hardly felt any magic, just bone through fabric.

 

He paused.  “and…uh…so, they fight…”

 

You nestled in until your shoulder blades were pressed to his chest.

 

“…over the ball.”

 

There were probably a number of reasons for your drop in reservations.  You were a lightweight, you were happy, you were alone with him and you’d been going slow and you’d been doing this right and your soul was trilling, _pleading_ for more.

 

And maybe he could feel that.  Slowly, he started running his fingertips up and down the arm you had laid across your body.  You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were, because after the first light drag from your wrist to your shoulder, you let out a near-silent gasp.

 

He stopped.  You could feel his breath on a bare patch of neck.  “is this—”

 

“I’m just kinda…ticklish?” you explained, but your somewhat breathy tone suggested that wasn’t the whole truth.

 

He understood.  He resumed.  You didn’t twist away from the TV to see his face, but you felt a slight surge in his magic.  You closed your eyes and kept hugging the jacket, almost amused at how positively _erotic_ just your arm could feel, and when he slyly moved from your shoulder to your throat the sensation was amplified.

 

“is this ok?”  His voice was close to your ear and starting to sound more and more like yours.

 

“Yeah,” you murmured back, going so far as to brush your hair out of the way.

 

He paid special attention to your neck until your breathing started to pick up, then he ran his fingers over your scalp, rubbed his thumb just behind your ear.

 

“good?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Soon it was your back:  the shoulder blades; the spine; and the muscles leading dangerously close to your sides.  Every time he asked for approval.  Every time you said yes, until he wouldn’t go further.  You felt his hesitation.  The game was truly background noise and your mind was after one thing, and so you turned toward him.

 

“How about…”  You met his dilated, intent eyes with a blush.  “…I just tell you…”  You took his hand and gently placed it on your side, his fingers curled with the ribs leading into your chest.  “…when to stop.”

 

He just watched you for a moment.  His pupils flitted down to your lips, and he leaned forward to brush his magic so, so lightly against them.  You inhaled and closed your eyes.  Your skin was charged to the point that even such minimal contact was like electricity.  He deepened the kiss slowly, leisurely, until to your surprise, he caught your lower lip between his teeth.  He pulled gently, dragged away, and met your eyes.  You had to take several moments to catch your breath before once again grabbing his hand and placing it just under your shirt, bone to skin.

 

Sans kept touching you, sticking to your back at first before daring to brush over your stomach.  The heat in his expression was accompanied by something like wonder.  You noticed the way he lingered wherever there was bone, rubbing and tugging gently at the flesh to feel the cushioned edges.  That must’ve been so strange for him.  A soft, opaque shield to cover a body just like his.  He counted every rib, touching their curves and spaces as he moved up.  The higher he went, the warmer you felt, until his fingers collided with the wire of your bra.

 

He finally paused, looked at you.  You reached a hand under your shirt and placed it over his, taking a moment to touch his phalanges like he’d been touching you.  You guided him upward.  You were too far gone to feel nervous as you let him cup one breast.  You took your hand away and put it on his neck instead.  You watched him.

 

He squeezed lightly, experimentally, and you gasped.  That intimacy was something you hadn’t shared in so long.  You closed your eyes and pressed your head against his chest, pushing a bit into his touch.

 

“can i—”

 

You nodded almost frantically, and he slid his fingers under your bra.  When they brushed against your nipple you actually bit back a moan.  _Everything_ was raw.  _Everything_ was a livewire.  So as he explored your chest you could already feel the nerves shoot straight between your legs, and you inadvertently molded your body against him.  You could feel his arousal too.

 

“Can I touch you?”  The words rose from your mouth like steam, hissed and hot.

 

In lieu of a reply, he crashed your mouths together, even momentarily forgetting his lips in favor of teeth and tongue.  You kept kissing him as you moved your hand from his neck to his head to his back, like he’d done.  It was like the magic was roaring, but concentrating, shrinking in to his body until his bones were nearly vibrating.  You could feel his spine sharp through his shirt.

 

He was dragging his hands down from your breasts, along your ribs, down the side of your stomach.  You almost hastily shoved your hand under his shirt to better feel his upper spine, and he groaned into you, stopping his descent over your hip to squeeze harder than he’d dared up to this point, and oh, god, the _need_ in that motion made your pelvis roll forward all on its own, teasing against him.

 

He really was just _bone_.  Bone and buzzing.  It shot up your arm and charged you even more as you traced each vertebrae, stroked his shoulder blades.  You followed the path of his ribs to his sternum, realized you could reach _through_ him, and gave the lightest brush in the space between bones.

 

His hand was on your backside now, and he squeezed again.  He broke the kiss.  He looked at you and he was flushed and glowing and desperate.  Another squeeze, another roll, another moan.  You couldn’t think straight, not at all.  You only knew _want_ even as reason nibbled at the back of your mind.  You shoved your fingers through the spaces, you grabbed him, and you pulled him back to your lips and you knew that had undone him, but then his hand moved over your hips, across your pelvis, toward your center.

 

When his fingers fell over your groin, not grabbing, not pressing, but _shaking_ , you nearly convulsed.  You were so sensitive that the touch sharpened you, woke you up, made you gasp and think, _I’ve been drinking_.

 

“O-ok, ok, ok, wait, ok…”

 

He took his hand away immediately; you did the same.  You kept it flat on his sternum as you kept panting, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to will away some of the heat.

 

“Ok, I-I’ve…I’ve just…I-I’m a little tipsy, u-um…”  You trembled against him and let out a few breathless laughs.  “I’m a little tipsy.  We shouldn’t…let’s just…not right now, um…”

 

“was that…”  He was struggling, too.  “was that…did i go too far with—”

 

“No.  No, no, no, oh god, um…”  You moved your hand to wrap around his back, still touching bare bone.  “You’re…I’m…I’m just, um…h-ha.  I’m in trouble.”

 

When you looked up at him with a dopey grin, Sans laughed.  He took you in both arms and held you against his chest, curling into you and burying his face in your hair.  You squeezed him back and nuzzled into his shirt.  Distantly, you heard a pair of announcers cheering along with a crowd.

 

“i think we both are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know what you're all thinking and NO frisk did not get champagne, they had martinellis. what kind of criminal do you think i am


	42. Swing Batter Batter sWING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will mod ever stop naming chapter titles after sports references, tune in next week* to fiiiiiiiiiiind out!!
> 
>  
> 
> *joat is not legally responsible to complete another chapter within the time frame provided
> 
> [wanna learn my secret handshake?](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

“But...but are you sure?”

 

“‘course i am.”

 

“It might be...I dunno, weird?  I know it’s different when it’s--”

 

“it is different, promise.”

 

“Cuz listen, if you don’t like it we don’t have to--”

 

“ _naya_.  i’ll be _fine_.”

 

Sans looked amused, holding your arms as you glanced nervously over at your friends.  In the outfield of a public, unkempt baseball diamond, they were setting up a picnic.  Save for the few joggers passing through the surrounding park, you were alone.  It was that time of year where the leaves were gone, the ground was gray, and the snow hadn’t started falling, yet in spite of the gloomy weather, the monsters were as chipper as ever.  Alphys and Frisk were guarding a basket lunch while Toriel, Papyrus, and Undyne—all decked out in exercise clothes—did some stretches.

 

“it’s like…the difference between seein’ someone in their underwear and seein’ them in a swimsuit.  it’s all in the context.”

 

You frowned doubtfully at your chest.  “I mean…if you’re sure it’s ok.”

 

He bumped his forehead against yours and replied, “i’m sure.  thanks for thinkin’ of me, though.”

 

With a hard inhale, you turned around to the others, holding his hand and trying to stand as straight as possible.  “Ok,” you announced.  “Alrighty.  Okie doke.”

 

“You ready to RUMBLE?!”  Undyne was grinning and looking particularly beefy in a ripped-sleeve tee and biker shorts.  Wasn’t she cold?

 

“This is not a fight, dear,” Toriel chided.  You’d been surprised to note that her tight yoga clothes made her look just as muscular as the fish monster.  “This is a _lesson._ ”

 

“JUST WAIT, NAYA!”  Papyrus was performing stretches that seemed possible only through his lack of flesh.  “US SKELETONS ARE _NOTORIOUSLY_ GREAT TEACHERS!”

 

You swallowed.  The late-November wind sent goose-bumps over your skin, only adding to the nerves that had been building all morning.  You looked at Sans, he smiled encouragingly back, and finally, you let go of him to clap your hands together. 

 

“Fine, fine, yeah, ok let’s just freaking do it.”

 

Sans chuckled and retreated to sit next to Frisk and Alphys, while the other three faced you off.  Each claimed a different base of the diamond.  Standing at the mound, you felt more than a little exposed, but the reassuring grins of your friends lessened your stage fright.

 

“Alright!”  Toriel braced her hands on her hips and beamed at everyone.  “As you all know, Anaya has much to learn when it comes to magic.  We both thought a few demonstrations would be highly educational!”

 

“And FUN.”

 

“VERY FUN!”

 

Centering her paws at her chest, Toriel bowed her head, closed her eyes for a moment, then rotated her arms in a fluid circle.  Flames chased her palms as she moved, forming shapes and spitting sparks all around her.  She popped one eye open and said, “You are already familiar with my school of magic, my friend.”

 

“R-right,” you confirmed, although this seemed flashier than simply warming a cup of tea.

 

“OH, OH, ME NEXT!”  Papyrus raised a hand above his head before bringing it crashing down into the dirt, and like a shockwave, bones of growing sizes came sprouting out of the earth toward you.  You stepped back with a gasp, raising your hands instinctually as bones up to your hips surrounded the pitcher’s mound.  You’d never seen such a blatant display.  Where had the bones even come from?!  Your heart pounded, but a quick glance at Sans grinning proudly at his brother put you at ease.

 

“lookin’ good, bro!”

 

Papyrus grinned back at him excitedly.  “WOWIE, YOU THINK SO??”

 

“Ok, sure, that’s cool and all, but have you seen THIS?”

 

Suddenly, the bones right in front of you shattered under the impact of a glowing blue spear, which had embedded itself just inches away from your feet.  You jumped back, nearly falling over the remaining bones and yelping, “ _Fuck—!_ ”  Your eyes snapped to Frisk guiltily—who had a mouth full of sandwich and looked absolutely delighted—and you reiterated, “I mean, I mean, _farts,_ crap, _Undyne_ —”

 

She was booming out a laugh, ignoring glares from Toriel and Sans.  “Oh my god, your FACE!”

 

“Warn a guy?  Maybe?!”  You were honestly surprised your soul hadn’t jumped out from the shock.

 

“What?!”  She shrugged and grinned.  “It can’t HURT you, dork!”

 

“Wh…huh?”

 

“That is a good point, Undyne,” Toriel admitted, still looking at her disapprovingly.  “It is true.  Our magic comes with no intent to harm.” 

 

Raising a paw, she summoned a plume of fire, raised it to her lips, and blew it toward you.  You fought the instinct to dodge as the flame brushed against your arm and evaporated.  Sure enough, you’d felt nothing but warmth.

 

“See?  We are all friends here!”

 

“Yeah, we’d have to, like…HATE your freaking GUTS if we wanted to do any damage!”

 

“Oh.  Well…cool.  Reassuring.”

 

“S-s-still, maybe give a warning next time, sweetie?”

 

Undyne finally relented to her wife’s request, softening to say to her, “Aw, yeah…yeah ok.  You’re right.  Gotta work on that.”

 

You followed her look toward Alphys, who seemed totally content to stay on the sidelines with Frisk and Sans all this time, but that made you wonder.

 

“Uh…aren’t you gonna go, Alphys?” you asked, tilting your head.

 

She tensed.  “O-oh, um.  I mean, the thing is, i-it’s not—”

 

Undyne immediately brightened, gushing, “Oh my god, YEAH, you should totally show her your stuff, Al-pal!”

 

“COME TO THINK OF IT, I’VE NEVER REALLY SEEN YOU…YOU KNOW.”  Papyrus waggled his arms around, as if that provided explanation.

 

“al’s stuff’s crazy cool,” Sans chuckled, nudging her with his shoulder while Frisk gave her other arm a head-butt.

 

“I-I don’t…i-i-it’s not good for this k-kinda demonstration, s-so um.”

 

“Do not sell yourself short, dear,” Toriel said.  “I am sure anything you can offer will be helpful to Anaya’s education!”

 

“Well.  I mean, a-alright.”  Alphys seemed to be shrinking deeper and deeper into herself, still running a chagrinned claw over her frill.  “Ok, um.  S-so, I can do this th-thing where I…uh…imbue inanimate objects with m-magic.”

 

Your eyes widened.  “Woah, what?  That’s awesome!  Can you make like…like _golems_ and junk?”

 

She quickly flapped her hands and shook her head.  “N-no, no no no, nothing that…not that crazy, I mean…n-not really, um…oh man.”  She looked around the picnic for a moment before picking up a fork.  “It’s like…s-see this fork?”

 

“Um.  Yes.”

 

“Well, it’s magic now.”  She shrugged.  “There you go.  N-not the most _useful_ thing in the world.”

 

“Are you kidding me babe?!”  Undyne looked pumped as she glowed at her wife.  “It’s the COOLEST!  If I could make random stuff magic I’d do it ALL THE TIME.”

 

“A-aw…thanks, honey,” she murmured with a blush.  “And, uh…m-maybe nobody use this fork.  J-just to be safe.”

 

You turned back to the three, studying each one.  Toriel still had wisps of flame licking around her paws; Undyne’s spear remained glowing at your feet; and Papyrus’ bones actually seemed to be gradually developing cracks all over their surfaces.  After Alphys’ demonstration, there was only one person who hadn’t gone, and you glanced at him.  He was studying the magic fork, looking mildly amused.  You’d seen what he could do before.  Maybe there was a reason he didn’t seem eager to join in.

 

“Ok, um…”  You took a breath.  “Listen.  If it’s…ok with everyone, I’m gonna…I’m gonna make things a little easier for me to see.”

 

Toriel and Frisk immediately smiled in understanding.  Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys cocked their heads.  Sans looked up from the fork.

 

“Go on, my friend,” the goat monster encouraged.

 

“Wait, what’re—OH.”

 

Undyne’s question was cut off as you placed a hand on your chest, let out a slow exhale, and summoned your soul.  Everyone who wasn’t expecting it let out gasps.  You blinked a few times, adjusting to the sudden clarity, the sudden volume of your surrounding world.  The sky, overcast and flat before, had so much texture, so many shades.  The wind was like a chorus of varying pitch.  Your body filled with pounding.

 

“Ok, if anyone…isn’t _cool_ with this, then—”

 

“IT’S SO PRETTY!”

 

“W-wow, the _g-glow_ —”

 

“Anaya.”  You turned to Toriel.  Her chest and hands pulsed with a lavender glow.  “Look around.  Tell me what you see.”

 

You blushed.  You weren’t sure you _wanted_ to look at the others, knowing the significance, and it seemed Toriel could read your worries.

 

“This is simulated combat.  By sparring with another, an opponent has essentially given permission to view their magic.  Do not be afraid.”

 

With a nod, you looked at Undyne.  Her grin was stretched excitedly, and like she understood what you were trying to do, she started to form another spear in her hand.  You thought you could see the northern lights in her chest.  Bluish-green lightning shot down her arm, fierce and fast, until it solidified and came sailing toward you.  You watched its arc in what seemed like slow-motion.  It split the old spear right down the middle, which dissolved in a sparkling of energy.

 

“…Holy shit.”

 

Everyone burst out laughing.  “THAT’S more like it!” Undyne boomed.

 

You wanted to see more.  Your eyes scoured the trail of bones leading from you to Papyrus.  They shone a warm orange, but the light was steadily fading.  You looked up at the skeleton, and he didn’t even have to do anything for his light to leak out between his ribs.  It was boisterous and warm and cheerful.  Just seeing it made you grin.

 

“Describe what you are feeling, Anaya,” Toriel reminded you.

 

You shook your head slowly and squinted as the bones closest to Papyrus started to crumble.  “It’s like…I don’t know.  This is weird but…it’s like I’m _finally_ seeing you guys?”

 

You looked at the picnic setup.  The redness of Frisk’s soul was as vibrant as ever, and while Alphys was dim, the fork in Sans’ hand was a pinpoint of yellow light.  It wasn’t quite like your yellow, more orange, more like fire.  More like energy.

 

“You’re all…amazing.”

 

“D’aw, you DWEEB.”

 

“I WAS ALREADY AWARE OF MY AMAZINGNESS, BUT THANK YOU FOR SAYING SO!”

 

Your eyes rose from the fork to Sans’ face.  He was meeting your eyes, his smile tender, but the lack of color frustrated you.  That was selfish.  That was so, so selfish of you.  Maybe he wasn’t ready.  He’d _said_ he wasn’t ready, but this was you in a swimsuit, right?  This was different, and you wanted to see him light up.

 

“Now, Anaya has shown some control over fire,” Toriel was saying.  “Would you mind showing us what you have learned, my friend?”

 

You blinked and looked away from Sans.  “Oh, uh.  Sure.”

 

You raised you hand, ready for that slight glow and sensation of heat, but you gasped when a fully-formed plume sprang up from your palm.  You stepped back when it started to grow, climb, and crackle, and with that unnatural clarity you could see Toriel reach toward you, you could see Sans move in the corner of your eye, and you could see the trickle of glowing yellow _something_ moving from your chest to your hands.  That something was feeding the fire.  You took another step back, and…you tripped.  The bones behind you were still half-formed.  You were falling back, toward the jagged, broken shafts, and—

 

You stopped, suspended.  The fire disappeared.  The stream of yellow was dammed, and you could only stare in confusion at the blue heart in front of your chest.

 

“Oh, goodness, my friend, how incredible!”

 

“Dude, that was BADASS!”

 

“ARE YOU SURE SHE’S NOT A BOSS MONSTER??”

 

“W- _wow_ Naya!”

 

Everyone was grinning.  Everyone was coming toward you.  You were still feeling slow, yet sharp, and you were still held still.  Your soul was still blue.  You looked at them each, at Toriel, Undyne, Papyrus, then Frisk and Alphys and…

 

Oh.

 

Sans had one hand raised.  Bright, pulsing color curled around his fingers, around his arm, around his chest, the same color you’d seen in his eye, but void of any rage.  Powerful, yes, so powerful you could feel your own soul flicker a bit before him.  You knew this color.  He’d shown you this color, but you hadn’t realized…

 

You remembered the luckiest summer night of your life.  You were so young, so small and just starting to form the memories that would last, and you were holding your parents’ hands.  You were on the beach.  The sun was down, cars were crowding the street, people were streaming to the coast, cameras out and mouths gaping, but you don’t remember hearing them.  You could only hear the water, and you could only see the glow.  Riding on the crest of the tide, brushing up against the sand and leaving bits behind, amazing and unearthly.  Your dad showed you how to trace your finger in the sand and make it sparkle.  “Algae,” he’d said.  “Rare,” your mother had said.  You’d kept staring at the waves.  You’d kept staring at that mysterious blue light, and you knew, even as a child, that you’d never forget it.

 

“heh, you ok?”

 

You broke out of your reverie.  He was looking at you, just a little confused.

 

You’d known seeing magic, seeing _souls_ , was private in concept.  It was only for the eyes of those closest to them.  Still, even after everything, you hadn’t felt that instinctual shyness until now.  Because now it was him.

 

And he was beautiful.

Your soul moved you, gently but against your will, until you could balance on your own.  You watched as the blue was sucked back from his hand, back from his eye, until it reached his chest and extinguished.  He kept watching you through your silence, looking more and more concerned.

 

By the time the others had reached you, clamoring and smacking you on the back and asking for you to try more, try spears, try bones, your soul seeped back inside you.  You put a hand to your head and groaned as exhaustion hit you, and soon instead of congratulating you, they were guiding you back to the picnic.

 

You were still out of it as Toriel gave you a sandwich and explained that no, your soul dimming wasn’t abnormal and yes, you were still trying to build up your strength and maybe, just maybe you’d need to rest before trying anything else.

 

Sans was at your side, hand on your back, not joining in as the others chatted excitedly about the potential of your magic.  He just watched you.

 

“you sure you ok?” he murmured at one point.  The others were packing up the picnic, putting hands over their heads as a drizzly rain picked up.

 

You’d been avoiding his eyes.  You were distracted.  But you nodded, and you left with everyone, and you felt strange, so strange.  You felt tight.  You snuck glances his way.  You held his hand through the car ride home.  You were very, very tired.  And you thought, and you remembered, and you let the color of him roll around your mind, and you realized…

 

Oh, god.  You wanted so much more of him.

 

* * *

 

 

The black cat gave both of you a disinterested look as you reached your door, licking his whiskers before nabbing another mouthful of kibble.  Sans snorted at the sight of him.

 

“i see you two are makin’ some progress.”

 

“Mm.”  You unlocked the door.

 

He looked at you and followed you in silently, closing the door when you just stopped in the middle of the living room.  There was something wrong, he knew it.  Was it something he did?  Was it when he caught you?  Maybe it was too unexpected.  Blue magic could be weird, if you didn’t see it coming.  It’d just been instinct, you tripped, you could’ve hurt yourself, and you’d made so much _fire_ and after that you’d been so withdrawn and—

 

“Sans.”

 

He froze.  “uh…yeah?”

 

“Was that…that thing you did.”  You turned a bit toward him.  Your face was scrunched, thinking.  “That was…the same thing _I_ did.  To Cody.  Wasn’t it?”

 

He hesitated before answering, “yeah.  that was blue magic.”

 

“ _Your_ magic.”

 

“um.  i guess, yeah.”  When you didn’t reply, he took a step closer.  “naya, is…is something wrong, or…?”

 

You were biting your lip.  “Um…listen, I…when I was looking at everyone, I…”  You finally turned to him.  “I sort of saw you?”

 

He blinked.  He blushed.  “oh.”  Was that all?  He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or self-conscious as he scratched the back of his skull.  “heh, well, sure.  you could’ve been really _boned_ if you’d fallen, so i just—”

 

He was suddenly pushed back against the closed door and your face was right there.  Your eyes were flicking between his, those brown eyes flecked with…was the gold brighter than before?  Like widening rips in fabric?  He couldn’t chase the thought much further, because your breath was hitting his teeth and you were whispering, “Sans, I…”

 

“y-yes?”

 

Your fingers were on his chest.  You dug in a bit as you asked, “Kiss me?”

 

Why were you asking?  He obliged, wrapping his hands around you and feeling your back through your jacket and your lips, so real and impossibly soft, worked against him, and he hoped this was helping you.  He squeezed his eyes shut.  He sighed as you grabbed his jaw and held him even closer.

 

You were pulling him, walking back.  His worries were muddling as you slid your tongue between his teeth, and he followed you, let you turn him around, stopped when the back of his legs hit the couch.  He pulled away to look at you, numb and questioning.  What he saw reflected back in your eyes wasn’t distance, or uncertainty.  It was _wonder_.

 

You seemed to hesitate.  You stared at him, jaw working and hands clutching his shirt, until you murmured, “I-I’m…I’m sorry, I…”

 

“why?”  The question was a soft whisper, as he lifted a hand to brush your hair behind your ear.  How could you ever be sorry about this?

 

You laughed hoarsely, leaned into his hand.  “I-I mean, I’m…I’m not…I’m not _smooth_.  Like at all.  I don’t know how to…”

 

He brought your foreheads together.  “how to…?”

 

“I want…I want to…” 

 

He loved the way you heated up when you were close like this.  That was the blood, wasn’t it?  Rushing to the surface of you when you were shy, or embarrassed, or when you were alone with him.  He tilted his head and just barely brushed his teeth across your ear.  “yeah?”

 

You suddenly pushed him away a bit.  He blinked as you stared back, your face still flushed but now determined, and you said, “I’m going to take off my shirt, ok?”

 

All thoughts came to a standstill as magic zapped over his cheeks.  “uh.”

 

“’Uh?’”  You were getting even redder.  “Is that ok?  Yes or no?”

 

“ _yes,_ sorry, yes, if…”  He couldn’t keep from glancing downward.  “if that’s what you—”

 

You let go of him, took a step back, and grabbed the bottom of your shirt.  You didn’t make eye contact as you pulled it quickly over your head and tossed it away.  He was still watching your face, the way you were chewing your cheek and looking away, and then he looked down at you and…you were always beautiful, but _now_ …

 

“naya, you…”

 

“Wait.”  Your voice was soft and hesitant, and you were looking at him again.  “Now, um…i-if it’s ok, can I…can you…”

 

You approached him again, brushed your hands over his shirt, and he swallowed.  He knew what you wanted, and he dared to place shaking hands over your sides and he wondered _why_ you wanted that, because you were so stunning, but he was just…hollow.

 

You held the fabric and started to tug.  “Can I?” you repeated.

 

He nodded before giving himself a chance to think.  You pulled, over his spine and ribs and shoulders and skull, and just like you had, he looked away.

 

You studied for several moments, and he steadied himself before glancing at your face.  You were slack, wide-eyed, still blushing, your eyes were flitting busily over his body, and when you reached forward to put a hand on his sternum, he shuddered.  You’d seen him like this before, but the heat in your gaze was a first.

 

Slowly, carefully, you pushed him down on the couch.  He couldn’t take his eyes off you, off your face or your body, off your skin, dark and smooth and warm and _tantalizing_ , and when your lips closed over his neck, he hissed and pulled you down with him.

 

You sat back on his knees.  You let go of him to reach around your back, fiddle with the bra strap, say, “This too, ok?” and then let that last bit of cloth fall to the floor.  Seeing so much of you, uninterrupted, intimate, and knowing you were _giving_ this to him…he couldn’t quite believe it.  He couldn’t help but stare.

 

Soon you were kissing him, and he was touching you everywhere he could, everywhere you’d given him, and you did the same.  He gasped to feel your chest press against his and oh god, oh _god_ you were soft, you were so, so soft, and so gorgeous, and how on earth was this happening to him?

 

Your mouth explored him, his shoulders and neck.  His hands dropped to the back of your jeans, gripped you and pulled you closer and elicited a short moan.  You traveled down to his collarbone, to his sternum, your lips and, fuck, even your tongue, touching everything, _tasting_ everything, but then you kept going lower and for the briefest instant, there was a knife through the haze.  Your lips would find something ugly.  He was scarred.  He tensed.  He fell still, waited for you to stop, waited for you to ask, but…

 

“ _Sans…”_ you whispered, and your hips _moved_ , and his head fell back against the couch as a helpless whine escaped him.

 

He grabbed your chin, not forcing but still pulling, until you got the hint and raised yourself to his lips.  He broke it after just a moment, because it was his turn, and when his teeth closed over your shoulder, you arched your back.  You welcomed him.

 

He touched the places you were softest—your breasts, your sides, your stomach—and the places you were hardest—your ribs, the wings of pelvis peaking over your pants.  He nibbled you and thought he would go mad at the quiet sounds you made.  His hand came low, past your bellybutton, and he realized…you were both sober.

 

“naya,” he growled.  His hand brushed over your waistband.  He wanted to pick up where you’d left off.

 

Immediately, you put a hand over his.  You pushed him downward and met his eyes, and when his hand slid between your legs, you trembled.

 

You were so sensitive, even through your clothes, and he was transfixed by all the little changes in your face and pitches in your voice that let him know _he_ was doing this to you.  He was so enamored that he almost didn’t notice your hand at the bottom of his ribcage, but when your fingers hooked underneath to brush the inside of him, he choked.

 

“ _fuck_ ,” he forced out, forehead pressed into your shoulder.

 

“S-sorry, did that hur—”  You stopped when his fingers dug much harder into your groin, collapsing your voice into a gasp.  You naturally pushed back into him, and the motion was enough to bring you rolling against his arousal.

 

“ _shit_ , shit shit, _naya_ …”  The curses were tumbling out almost against his will as he gazed up at you.  “i-i’m…you’re…”  He kept rubbing you through his stammering.  Whatever you were making him feel, he wanted to give it back.

 

A bit too suddenly, you hand dropped through the empty space from ribcage to pelvis and you were touching him, too, through his shorts, and that was almost too much, that was disarming and unexpected and he gripped you close and groaned and froze.  Your hand was shaking and light, almost experimental.  You sighed quietly as you stroked the length of him, leaning in to him as he grasped you, tugged you, held you as firm against him as he could without interrupting your touch.

 

He wasn’t thinking.  His hand could hardly feel you through your jeans but he wanted to, and now your hands were on him and he couldn’t _think_ , dammit, he could only concentrate on how much he wanted, and so he slipped his fingers under your waistband, under the stretchy fabric of your underwear.  Your only response was to— _fuck_ —squeeze him, so he kept going.  He brushed through hair, moving slow and marveling, until he reached wetness, heat, and even more softness.

 

A sharp, _real_ moan jumped from your lips.  He watched you part your teeth, a lock of hair caught carelessly between them, your cheeks red and your eyes cracked just enough for him to see some gold, see you look back at him, see the trust and the pleasure shining toward him, and he thought that for today, that was enough.  Because looking at you, feeling you, he knew something so, so firmly, and he wished he could say so.

 

You were slowing down, not going any further, getting comfortable where you were, occasionally closing your eyes and making quiet, almost distracted groans at his ministrations.  Your face was falling into something like concentration.  He blinked, cocked his head, and realized your touches were definitely more experimental than sensual.

 

“um…” he breathed, a little uncertain.  “is something up, or…?”

 

You seemed to break out of a sort of trance and murmur, “Oh, sorry, no no, it’s just…”  You glanced downward, then back up at his face, frowning.  “Is it…is it like… _also_ made of bone, or…?”

 

He stared at you for a moment, freezing with one hand down your pants, and suddenly busted up laughing.

 

“ _Woah,_ hang on, I _told_ you I’d never been with a dude, not to mention you’re a skeleton.   _Obviously_ there were gonna be questions—”

 

“oh my god, _which boner joke do i make_.”

 

You gave him an affronted look while stubbornly keeping your hand on his shorts.  “Sans, I’m serious!  This is all really, _really_ new to me, don’t be a di—”  You stopped

 

“a _what_.”

 

“…No.”

 

“ _say it_.”

 

“ _Fine._ ”  Now you were cracking up, grinning in spite of the compromising position as you placed a finger on his chest and said, “Don’t be a huge, _throbbing penis_ about this.”

 

He had to take away his hands to clutch his skull as he laughed, and you had to do the same.  You fell against him and gasped with mirth.  Soon your arms were around each other, holding the other together as each threatened to break down completely.  It was a weird and wonderful time to be laughing.

 

“Oh my god,” you groaned once you’d caught your breath, “what is _wrong_ with us?”

 

“we’re just super, super funny.”

 

You snorted and held him tighter.  You sighed, “You were right.”

 

“’bout what?”

 

“We’re in trouble.”  He could feel the devious grin building even before you said, “In fact, you could say we’re… _boned_.”

 

“how _dare_ you.”

 

You drew back to waggle your eyebrows at him, earning a bear-hug that squeezed a shrieking laugh right out of you.  This had devolved in a way neither of you could have predicted, but he wasn’t sure he could remember ever feeling happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's from Sans' perspective cuz naya this whole time is just going like "wow i guess natural bio luminescent phenomena makes me really horny actually? the more u know"


	43. Bad News Bears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the character of Brady, Naya's coworker, was pretty much created to be that guy who's like "hey what about THIS important plot point huh? ever thought about that? no? well that's what i'm here for Friend"
> 
> [i've drawn some pretty stinky art since last time](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

As you walked toward the staffroom at the elementary school, you weren’t surprised to see Brady heading the same way.  You were, however, surprised to see him walking side by side with Frisk, chatting amiably and acting totally unfazed at the scowling flower poking out of their backpack.

 

“Oh, Naya, hey!”

 

You ignored him to stare at Frisk and Flowey, nearly frozen as Brady smiled obliviously between you all.  “…Um,” you finally said.

 

“I just got done saying goodbye to these goobs!”  You remained perplexed as he ruffled Frisk’s hair and patted Flowey’s backpack.  “Just in case I don’t see them in the next week.”

 

“You…you know…him…?”

 

Brady cocked his head.  “Who?  Flowey?  Of course I do, we’re buddies!”

 

Flowey looked as sullen as ever, avoiding your eyes as he grumbled, “I told you not to call us that, fatty.”

 

“Pft, classic Flowey!”

 

You glared at Frisk, who had the decency to look a bit sheepish as they shrugged at you.  “How many people know about…wait.”  You blinked as another detail of Brady’s words sunk in.  “Wait, goodbye?”

 

He gasped and covered his mouth.  “Oh no!  Did I not tell you?”

 

“Tell me—”

 

“I turned in my two weeks!”  He was grinning and opening his arms.  “I’m skipping town!”

 

You blinked again.  “Oh.  Oh, that’s…is this, like, a congratulations situation, or…?”

 

“Lonnie wanted to move back home with his family, and…oh my god, I’m still grinning, aren’t I?  Ok, ok, get this, he asked me to go with him!”

 

“Oh!  Ok, yeah, yeah, congratulations then.”

 

“Yup!”  He was beaming as he nudged Frisk.  “Maybe we’ll all meet up in Ebott, huh?”

 

Frisk nodded happily while Flowey rolled his eyes.

 

“And how about you?”

 

“Wh…me?  What do you—”

 

“When’re you moving down there?”

 

You couldn’t quite comprehend the question.  You were still so thrown off by Flowey’s apparent socializing.  “Down where…?”

 

Brady rolled his eyes and waved a hand.  “Oh, c’mon, don’t be shy.  Frisk was telling me all about it!  You and that cute comedian, getting all serious.  It’s great!”

 

It clicked.  Going home to Ebott.  Meeting up with Frisk.  That’s right, that’s right, their living arrangement wasn’t permanent.  They were never going to stay here, they were always going back.  Them, and Toriel, and…

 

Brady was already moving past you toward the staffroom, lost in a fantasy.  “I can’t wait to see it!  Lonnie says it’s, like, a monster _hub_.  A bunch of the businesses revamped to accommodate monsters, all the people are super chill, there’s a bunch of tolerance laws…”

 

“I mean…”  Your mind was still resisting the thought.  You could see Frisk watching you from the corner of your eye.  “I’m not even sure if I—”

 

“Anyway, we’ll work it out later, promise you’ll text me when you get there, ok?  Promise?”

 

“Um.”

 

“Awesome!”  Brady stopped in the doorway to wave at Frisk and Flowey.  “And you two are gonna show me that neat bakery.  No take backs!”

 

He was gone, and you were left with your hands fisted into your pockets.  Your mind was stuttering and your mouth was tightening, and you decided to tackle the easiest issue first.

 

“Really guys?”  You turned to Frisk and Flowey.  “Really?”

 

“Really _what?_   You got a problem?”

 

“Do you always just, like…let him out?  On the regular?”  You were addressing Frisk while pointing an exasperated hand toward their backpack.

 

They winced and explained, **Translator.**

 

“Yeah, because all these little _idiots_ can speak is _English_ ,” Flowey scoffed.

 

You rubbed your brow and sighed, “Are your classmates…do they…are they _traumatized?_ ”

 

**They think he’s funny.**

 

“Have your _teachers_ met him?”

 

A chagrinned shrug.

 

“ _Ugh_ , does…does Toriel…?  No.  No, of course she doesn’t, or of course she does, I don’t know ha ha.”  You shook your head and started to walk past them, laughing helplessly.  “You guys are nuts.”

 

**Where are you going?**   Frisk hurried to keep up with you.

 

“Home?  I’m off dude.”

 

They looked dismayed.  **But…but the lesson!**

 

“The… _oh_.  Oh, your guitar lesson…yeah.”  Brady’s revelation was still distracting you.  “Yeah, sorry, yeah, um…ok, then I guess I’m just stopping by the apartment to grab my stuff, so…”

 

**We’ll come with you!**

 

You stopped.  You tried to maintain an air of disapproval as you met Frisk’s eyes, then Flowey’s glare.  They were such a stark contrast, one the picture of friendly enthusiasm and the other…Flowey.  You had to snort at the pair.  “Uh, ok, but should we tell your…aw, screw it.  I’ll text her.  Whatever.”  As they started to grin in victory, you gestured between them and their backpack and said, “But just for the record, I’m _not_ enabling this.  Letting him out and junk.  That’s all _you_.”

 

You were glad the walk back to the apartment was short, partially because of the ever-advancing cold, but mostly because Frisk was all too ready to pick up where Brady had left off.  They were signing to Flowey a bit too fast for you to follow, but the topic of their conversation was clear.

 

“I don’t even get why you guys wanna go _back_ there,” Flowey grumbled in response at one point.  “Everyone’s always up in our business.”

 

You picked up **friends** and **happy** in Frisk’s reply.

 

“They’re not _my_ friends, they’re _your_ friends.”

 

You were keeping your head down and your eyes forward.  You didn’t want to think too deeply about this, but still, you couldn’t resist interjecting, “So, um…when’re you guys heading back then?”

 

Frisk beamed at you.  **Next month!**

 

Your gut lurched.  “Huh.  Kinda soon.”

 

**Yup.  Gotta start getting ready.**   They looked up pensively.  **Gotta pack, get goodbye gifts…**

 

“You don’t have to give literally everyone you meet goodbye gifts,” Flowey said in a way that made you think this wasn’t the first time he had.

 

**I like to.**

 

“So.”  You coughed and tried to sound casual.  “So, uh.  So everyone’s going, right?”

 

**All of us!**

 

“Yeah.  The whole chuckle-bus.”

 

“Right…ok.”

 

**So you should probably start getting ready, too!**

 

You stopped.  Frisk walked a few feet ahead before noticing and turning to tilt their head at you.

 

“Don’t you have like…forty jobs?  Shouldn’t you wrap those up?” Flowey was muttering.  He turned back when Frisk did.

 

“…Me?”

 

“’ _Me?_ ’” Flowey mocked.  He was actually getting better at imitating your voice.  “Do you see any other morons with five hundred jobs?”

 

“Guys, I…”  This wasn’t a big deal.  You’d known it was coming, deep down, so you forced yourself to give an easy shrug and keep walking.  “I never told anyone I was moving?  I haven’t even thought about it.”

 

Now they were the ones getting left behind.  You saw them exchange a quick look before you overtook them.

 

**But you and—**

 

“—Smiley trash-bag.”

 

“Well, I mean, _yeah_ , we’re gonna talk about it.  We just haven’t yet.”

 

From behind you, Frisk suddenly grabbed your arm.  You whipped around to see their eyes wide and red, their face blank and hard, but you blinked and the look was gone.  You kept staring at them as they signed, **You’re not going?**

 

“I mean…maybe not.  I really don’t know, Frisk.”

 

“But you _have_ to!”  Flowey stared at you with a shocking amount of conviction, before seemingly remembering himself and falling back into a scowl.  “I-I mean…you…do you really want to be all _alone_ again?”

 

What was that?  Why was _Flowey_ , of all people, so concerned with where you lived?  You gave him an unnerved look and muttered, “Uh…do you care?”

 

He almost flinched.  “ _No_.  Ew.”

 

Frisk smiled.  It fell a little flat.  **You’d like it there!**

 

You grit your teeth.

 

“It’s full of weirdos like you,” Flowey added.

 

“Right.”  You pulled away from Frisk to keep walking.

 

**I could show you around.  Maybe if you just tried it…**

 

You rounded the corner of your apartment’s courtyard.  “Trust me, I know about Ebott.”

 

**You do?!**

 

“I was born there.”  You started up the stairs.  “Did…did I not tell you that?”

 

**That’s perfect!**

 

“Psh.  We were born there too, Frisk, it’s not that cool.”

 

The black cat was sitting by the door, ignoring you as it stared over the balcony.  Frisk was so wrapped up in your conversation they didn’t even stoop to greet the creature.

 

**Well if you were born there,** Frisk signed as you all entered the apartment, **don’t you want to go back?**

 

“Not…uh.”  You gave a dry laugh as you grabbed your guitar from the closet.  “Not really…?”

 

**Why not?**

 

“It’s…kinda complicated.”

 

“Ugh, that’s just what adults say to get kids to shut up,” Flowey griped.  “We’re not _stupid_ , you know.”

 

**But we’ll all be there!  Me, and Mom, and Sa—**

 

“I just—just can’t, ok?”

 

Your reply was a bit too fast, a bit too sharp, and both Frisk and Flowey fell silent.  You gave them a guilty look, sighed, and ran your hands through your hair, once again forcing down the soreness surrounding your old home town.

 

“Sorry, sorry, um…it really is weird, so…”  You rubbed your neck.  “Can we not talk about it right now…?”

 

They glanced at each other.  Something passed between them, too fast for you to process, then to your surprise, they both nodded.  Even Flowey’s normally snide expression seemed more serious.  You cocked your head in confusion, but then Frisk’s relaxed smile was back.

 

**We’re sorry.**

 

Flowey said nothing, which was probably all the confirmation you’d ever get out of him.

 

“It…it’s fine.”  You kept staring at them.  It was impossible to read their expressions, but you got a weird sense of understanding.  “Y’know, it’s just…this whole thing.  And I gotta deal with it.”

 

**Right.**

 

“Right.”

 

True to their word, they didn’t bring it up as you went from your apartment to the Hoepfull’s.  That strange moment they shared perplexed you, as did the willingness even from Flowey to avoid the subject, but you were grateful.  You managed to steer the conversation toward safe topics of music and “No, I haven’t named the cat, it’s not mine,” until Frisk brought up another bit of gossip.

 

**So has he said it yet?**

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

Their apartments were in view as they sprang forward to grin in front of you, walking backwards to match your pace.  **You know!**

 

You snorted.  “I don’t.”

 

“They’re talking about your trash-bag, duh.”  Flowey’s voice was muffled; he’d retreated fully into the backpack.

 

**Has he?  Has he?**

 

“Said _what?_ ”

 

Frisk just clasped their hands by their cheek and made kissy faces, and when you finally got the message, you went red.

 

“ _Dude._ ”

 

**Well?!**

 

“ _Literally none of your business_ ,” you laughed.  You definitely preferred this kind of interrogation over the last, but you still pushed past them with an indignant face.

 

**Then have _you?_**

 

“That’s…that’s like the same question.  Knock it off.”

 

You were managing to smile and joke around, but…there was still that nasty revelation in the back of your mind.  Now there was a countdown.  A ticking clock.  That was how much time you had before this life that you’d grown comfortable with, a life that had made you happy for the first time in years, would be turned upside down.  Why hadn’t you prepared yourself for this?

 

Frisk took your hand and broke you out of your thoughts.  You glanced at them.  They gave you a squeeze before signing, **Fine, don’t tell me.**

 

“I _won’t_ —”

 

**But I know one thing.**

 

You’d almost reached the door.  You passed the skeleton brothers’ apartment.  “Oh yeah?”

 

**You don’t need to worry about it.**

 

“I’m not…wait, what am I supposed to be worried about?”

 

Their eyes opened wide and red again, but they were soft.  They were kind.  **He’s with you.**

 

You blinked.  It was an odd enough thing to say that you wondered if something was lost in translation.  You opened your mouth to clarify, but then they were opening the door.  Toriel was inside, a drink in her hand as she laughed across the coffee table, and there on the couch was Sans.  He turned around to grin at you as you entered.  The way he lit up was so unmistakable, the way he just looked…relieved.  It was the same look you were giving him.  The same look you always gave each other.

 

Frisk squeezed your hand again, briefly enough to escape anyone else’s notice, and then skipped toward their bedroom.

 

“Hello, Anaya!”  Toriel beamed and waved you in.

 

You smiled at them both.  “Hey.”

 

“hey.”  It was such a simple word, but his voice put you at ease.  Finally, the ticking in your mind was muted.  You didn’t have _just_ a month, you had a _whole_ month to worry about things.  You had time to have the right conversations.  For tonight, you just wanted to play some songs, have some laughs, and be with him.

 

Ebott could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the kids think flowey's the shit. first day he showed up this bully dude came up and flowey was just like "wow where'd you get that shirt _the dump_ " and since they're children that was the sickest burn they'd ever heard so


	44. LET HIM IN, LET HIM IN, LET H

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> behind the scenes sneak peek: this chapter was a Bitch. a Journey.
> 
> [why can't we be friends? why can't we be friends?](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

Toriel adjusted her scarf nervously.  She gave you and Sans a doubtful glance, wearing a leather jacket, jeans and boots and looking, for lack of a better word, hot.  Plus, reassuring her made ignoring the few moving boxes sitting under the now-picture-free walls— _when did they start packing?—_ easier.

 

"You look great, Tori.  Trust me."

 

"It is not too...you know, young?"

 

"your coworkers better watch out," Sans chuckled, "that outfit's gonna _out-class_ 'em all."

 

She snorted and stood a bit straighter.  "Well.  I cannot argue with such a _teacher-riffic_ pun!"

 

"Ha ha, yeah."  You forced a smile as the wheels turned awkwardly in your head.  "Y-you look...in... _instructive_."

 

They both blinked at you.

 

"Like...it just, it rhymes with seductive?  Um."

 

Sans had to cover his mouth against the sudden burst of snickers as Toriel gasped, "Anaya!  Please!"  She hid a smile, glanced toward Frisk's room, and hissed, "I am saving _that_ look until _after_ I have had a few drinks!"

 

You all laughed and ushered her to the door.  She turned before leaving and fretted, "But truly, I will have my phone on all evening.  You will call if there are any—"

 

" _tori_.  we got this."

 

She frowned.  "I...I know.  Just, ah...just do not forget bedtime?  And make sure they have at least _one_ vegetable with their dinner."

 

"On it."

 

"And no violent video games.  And—"

 

You all but pushed her outside, scolding, " _Got it_."

 

The moment you closed the door, Sans grinned and loudly declared, "alright, naya, we're good.  break out the hard liquor."

 

"Sans!" you heard from the breezeway.

 

"Have fun, Tori!" you called through your giggles, and after an exasperated sigh, you heard her footsteps fade away.

 

"Ok."  You put your hands on your hips.  "What should we do fir—Sans."

 

While you spoke, he'd pulled a flask from the inside of his jacket.  He uncapped it and gave you an innocent look.  "what."

 

"The hell?"

 

He took a swig.  "the hell what."

 

" _The hell_."

 

"want some?"  He held it out, his grin just barely cracking around the edges, and you could clearly see the bits of red paste left around the flask’s opening.

 

"Is that...oh.  Oh my god.  Is there ketchup in there."

 

His grin widened.

 

"Did you...buy a flask.  And fill it with ketchup.  In order to make this joke?"  You were covering your face and letting a few giggles slip.  " _Is that what you did?_ "

 

"you're laughing."

 

"I am _not_."

 

He moved in closer, putting an arm around you and bringing his face right up to yours and looking positively thrilled with himself.  You weakly tried to push him away as he insisted, "yes you are."

 

You finally cracked up, shaking your head at his shit-eating grin, and for that moment, you could forget the anxiety teasing the back of your mind.

 

"Would you losers _get a room?_ ”

 

You were still smiling when you turned to see Frisk had emerged from their room, with Flowey in one hand and their guitar in the other.  Frisk had their head tilted quizzically, but the flower looked disgusted.

 

"Ugh.  Just when I thought you two couldn't get any trashier."

 

"sup, kiddo?"  Sans let go of you, and his grin lost a fraction of its humor as he added, "sup, flowey?"

 

Flowey didn't reply, instead scowling up at Frisk to gripe, "Why's _he_ here?  As if putting up with freak-show wasn't enough."

 

You pointed at yourself.  "Wait, am I freak-show…?"

 

Frisk was signing, **The more the merrier!**

 

Sans gave a smile that almost managed to look friendly.  "yup.  nothin' better than hangin' out with old friends.  right?   _pal?_ "

 

The look Flowey gave him was blatantly poisonous.  Between the two of them, you could feel the threat of tension in the air, and after a sharing a wince with Frisk you steered Sans into the kitchen, while the teen took Flowey to the living room.

 

"Ok, alrighty, well let's just get started on dinner then."

 

Frisk nodded emphatically, giving you a "crisis-averted" thumbs-up.

 

Sans seemed to relax as soon as you were alone, but you still shot a frown back toward the living room.  "Ok, is it just me," you muttered, "or does he get crankier when you're around?"

 

He chuckled, turning away to peruse the fridge.  "oh, it's not just you."

 

You kept frowning as you joined him.  There were plenty of leftover options for dinner: meatloaf; lasagna; stew.  You grumbled, "What kinda weirdo doesn't like you?  You're great."

 

He snorted and flashed you a smile.  "i know, right?"  He pulled out a tupperware of pasta and turned it in his hands.  "there's just...bad blood."

 

"I gathered."

 

"but i'll play nice."  He returned the pasta in favor of pizza.  "not gonna start a fight while we're flower-sitting."

 

You grabbed a pre-made salad packet and snorted, "No promises on my end."

 

He gave you a crooked smirk as you started hunting for a bowl to mix it in.  "is that right?"

 

"Yup."

 

"you'd fight a plant for me?"

 

" _Yup_."

 

He came up behind you and ran his hands down your arms, prompting you to smile over your shoulder.  "wow.  that's pretty badass."

 

"That's right."  You held up the salad pack as your smile turned to a grin.  "Just watch me beat up this salad.  Then you'll see."

 

He grinned back.  You both started to giggle as he turned you around and said, "easy there.  what'd the salad ever do to you?"

 

He had his hands on your hips now, and your back was pressed to the counter.  He wasn't even trying to maintain distance.  He brought his mouth tauntingly close to yours, and you wondered, _Is he being flirtier than usual?_ And normally you’d get lost in that.  Normally the look he was giving you—smitten and playful—was easy to give back, but now, in spite of his distraction and your efforts not to think about it, the only question that came to mind was…

 

_Would he really leave me behind…?_

 

Your hands on his chest retracted.

 

Sans’ head tilted, his pupils darting quickly up and down.  You tried to match that carefree attitude even as you were untangling from him, offering a smile that said nothing was wrong.  “Sans, c’mon.  There’s a child, like, ten feet away.”

 

He regarded you for a moment and you tried, you tried so hard to hold that smile, and the moment you felt it strain a tad too much you were sure he’d see through you, you couldn’t fool him, he was too smart for that, but finally, he shrugged.  He turned to toss the salad and chuckled, "pretty sure they know what kissing is."

 

You had to keep yourself from sighing in relief.  You backed toward the door, watching the back of his skull, and let the smile sag from your face as you spun around to the living room.

 

"Hey, could you guys do us a favor and be gross somewhere else?"

 

Flowey and Frisk were sitting on the floor, sheet music spread out around them as Frisk tuned their guitar.  They lifted their hands briefly to smile and comment, **I think it's cute.**

 

"It's disgusting."

 

Just like that, what little motivation there was to save face dissipated.  You looked at the two of them, and all that worry threatened to resurface.

 

You plopped down between them with a sigh.  They both looked surprised at your sudden drop in mood.  They shared a glance, then turned to you, but before either could speak you murmured, "Hey guys?"

 

Frisk tilted their head.  Flowey raised a brow.

 

"You're not gonna, like..."  You were cross-legged, resting your head in your hands.  You sighed again.  "What we were talking about earlier.  You won't mention it to, uh...to Sans.  Right?"

 

Once again, the look they exchanged confused you.  Frisk's jaw was set strongly; Flowey gave the tiniest nod; and then they were staring at you.

 

**Nope.**

 

Flowey said nothing.  You were learning that this was as positive a response as you’d ever get from him.

 

"Ok...cool.  Just making sure."

 

"making sure of what?"

 

Sans appeared in the kitchen door, holding a bowl of salad in one hand and a plate of cold pizza in the other.  You had a moment where you were frozen, like your mind wasn't sure whether having him back in the room was a relief or cause for alarm, but Frisk replied before you had to.

 

**Making sure I'm ready to rock!**

 

He grinned, winked at you, and said, "well are you?"

 

Frisk cackled and hoisted their guitar over their head, nodding enthusiastically.

 

" _Woah_ , woah, put that down, put the expensive instrument down."

 

* * *

 

 

Toriel came home tipsy and talkative, and you spent a few minutes helping Frisk show her what they’d learned, gossiping about her fellow teachers, and feeling the mental exhaustion weigh down on you like a lead jacket.  Even with Sans beside you, holding your hand and acting normal, affectionate, casual, you couldn’t wait to get home.  You just needed time.  You just needed to mull this over.  You just needed to be alone.

 

But you had a whole walk home to hide from him.  Of course you _would_ talk about it, just…just not yet.  Not until you’d given it some thought.

 

Alone.

 

“good to see tori gettin’ back out there.”

 

You gave a small smile.  “Yeah.  Glad she had fun.”

 

“and frisk’s soundin’ great.”

 

“Mm.  Fast learner.”

 

“even flowey didn’t end up needing a knuckle sandwich.”  He elbowed you and flashed a grin.  “or should i say…a _honeysuckle_ sandwich.”

 

“Yup.”

 

He watched you for a beat, that grin fixed on his face, and then he fell quiet.  You’d reached the apartment stairs, and he kept his hand steadfastly in yours as you climbed.  He only piped up to see the black cat sitting on your landing, staring expectantly at the door and, as always, ignoring your approach.

 

“hey, cool cat.”

 

It only ever seemed to react to Sans.  It turned its green eyes on him and blinked slowly, giving a slow sweep of its tail as he bent down to scratch its ears.

 

“It’s been trying to get in,” you muttered, fumbling with your keys and the lock.

 

Sans grinned at you.  “why not let ‘im?”

 

You sighed, opening the door while gently blocking the cat with your leg.  “Not my cat.”

 

Sans’ expression faltered.  His hand slipped out of yours as you entered, and it took him an extra breath to follow.  You discarded your jacket, guitar case, and shoes, making a show of stretching and yawning.  He closed the door and stood still.

 

“Man, I’ve got work in the morning, huh?” you groaned.  You scratched your neck, not looking at him.  “Guess I’d better…y’know.”

 

“heh.  you don’t wanna hang out for a little?”

 

“I mean…”  You ducked your head.  You weren’t good at this.  “Maybe for a sec, I’m just pretty, um…pretty sleepy.”

 

A pause, his pupils constricted, and then he asked, “what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing!”  You forced an infinitely less convincing smile.  “Just tired.”

 

Sans had stopped grinning as he took a step closer.  “was…did flowey say something?”

 

“No, no, seriously I’m—”

 

“did something happen at work?”

 

You let yourself look at him, and you could see the concern plain on his face, you could see he had you figured out, and…god dammit, you were a horrible actor.  Your smile was more of a grimace at this point as you insisted, “No, c’mon, really I don’t…I didn’t…”

 

“naya, what’s—”

 

“Not yet.”

 

His eyes softened, his raised hand faltered.  You put a fist against your mouth to hide the no-longer-a-smile.

 

“N-not yet, ok…?”

 

Your heart broke to see him go from worried to helpless as he murmured, “aw, naya, what’s…what can i…?”

 

“I just need to think, I…I-I need to be alone for a little.”  Your voice was too sharp, too quick, like it had been with Frisk and Flowey earlier, but as soon as the words were out of your mouth, you realized to be alone was really the last thing you wanted.  That was why you were feeling this way.  That was why just a bit of bad news had sent you reeling.

 

“can…can you just…”  He searched your eyes.  “was it… _me_ , or…?”

 

“Was it…?  N-no, oh, god, it’s…”

 

Why did it have to be Ebott?  Why couldn’t it be anywhere else?  Why couldn’t this be easy?

 

“then who—”

 

“A month.”

 

He froze.  He shook his head slowly, asked, “a month…?”

 

You shrugged, staring at the ground, thinking about Ebott and everything that waited there.  “I didn’t know that I…I only have a month left with…until you…”

 

He stared for a few more moments before his eye sockets widened, and he realized, “oh.  _oh._   no, naya—”

 

“I was gonna bring it up, I promise, I-I promise, I just…I guess it was a lot?  Y’know?”  You were shrinking away from him, hugging yourself.  “A-and I’m sorry I still get like…this.  I…I close off and junk, it’s not…it’s not fair, I know…”

 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i wasn’t…”  You could see how badly he wanted to put his arms around you, but he didn’t.  “i wasn’t even thinking about it, that was…that’s my fault, i should’ve…”

 

_Well.  I guess we’re talking about it._

 

“I can’t…”  You took a shaky breath.  You closed your eyes, turned toward him, opened them and shook your head and whispered, “I don’t think I can go back there, Sans.”

 

He couldn’t help himself.  He grabbed you, reached up to tuck your head against his shoulder.  He murmured, “i know.”

 

“Whenever the nightmares get bad I…”  Your eyes were wide, obscured by hair and the hood of his jacket.  You were voicing thoughts that hadn’t even made it out of your subconscious until now.  “…that’s when I move away again.  And they’ve been getting bad, y’know?  I kinda thought…I kinda _knew_ I should…l-leave soon.  But I never…I can’t go _backwards._ ”

 

He was quietly guiding you to the couch.  He sat you down and stayed right with you, holding your hands.  He watched you, waited for you to continue, before murmuring, “i guess i just…lost track of time there.”  He chuckled like he’d just made a bad joke.  “i shoulda been thinking.”

 

You squeezed his hands and slouched toward him.  “I wasn’t thinking either.”

 

You were both silent for several moments.  Neither of you’d been prepared for this conversation.  There was no game plan.  With a sigh, you tucked your head into his shoulder again.

 

“I’m sorry.  This is coming out of nowhere, right?”

 

“naya.  let me get one thing straight.”  He reached up to push you back a bit, meeting your eyes.  “i’m sticking with you, ok?”

 

Your pupils flitted back and forth.  “But…you can’t just…I can’t make you…Papyrus, and Tori, and…”

 

“we’ll figure it out.”

 

“Because we can…we can try the…y’know, the long distance thing.”  You felt sick as soon as you said it, and he looked like he felt the same.

 

“we’ll figure it out,” he repeated.  “we’ve got time, right?  we’ve got, what…”

 

“Four weeks.”

 

His face fell more at that, and you frowned apologetically.

 

“Well that’s…I mean, that’s still some time,” you tried.

 

“yeah.” 

 

He looked so tired, and you felt another stab of guilt that you’d thrown him into this.  You leaned closer, gave him a soft stare, threw a few asking glances at his mouth, and then kissed him.  His magic was a comfort, just enough to take the bite out of your worry, but you were still sullen when you pulled away.

 

“We’ll figure it out.”

 

He tightened his jaw.  His brow knit in determination as he put both hands on your cheeks and reaffirmed, “together.”

 

Finally, you let out a weary smile.  You put a hand over his and nodded.

 

You hated parting on a note like that, but you really did need time to think.  So did he.  That hadn’t changed.  Your hug at the door was longer than usual, your kiss lingered, until he was giving you a reassuring grin.  You almost bought it.

 

He left, and you were alone.  You stared at the closed door for a few breaths, your mind little more than static.  Did you feel better, knowing he wasn’t just planning on leaving you?  Did you feel worse, knowing you were dragging him into your anxiety?  Did you feel different at all?  You couldn’t tell.

 

You mostly just felt alone.

 

Without realizing what you were doing, you opened the door.  You looked down at the black cat as it turned from its post at the edge of the landing.  It just stared at you, green eyes shining in the porch light, and then it glanced at the open door.

 

“Well?” you sighed.

 

It took its time.  Stood up, arched its back, stretched its legs on its way to the threshold, and then after a few uncertain sniffs, it strode past you into the apartment.  It calmly sat down and looked back at you as if to say, _Are you just going to stand there?_

You snorted.  You closed the door and leaned over to scratch under its chin, feeling fractionally less alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the triumphant return of fan favorite, Cool Guy McGeee.


	45. and now let's turn the time over to our co-host,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weird news: this chapter was ok to write? didn't give me too much trouble? like the words just came out of my finger tips like goop goop from a happy chute and i didn't need to revise it 7 times? what is this arcane treachery?
> 
> [on wednesdays we visit my blog](http://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

And just like that, two weeks were gone.

 

It was hard not to notice the urgency.  You were both still working, still living your lives, still laughing at each other’s jokes and kissing goodnight and being together, but moving boxes kept stacking up.  Toriel started getting farewell presents from the elementary students.  Papyrus was already done with classes.  Frisk was exchanging numbers and email addresses and usernames with every new friend they’d made.

 

And Sans was trying to be patient.

 

He could tell when you didn’t want to talk about it, so he wouldn’t bring it up.  He stood by you when you confessed to Toriel that you might, maybe, possibly not be accompanying them to Ebott, and he’d held your hand through her disappointment.  He’d been the perfect distraction.  The perfect support.  But still, he’d catch those glimpses of the fear, and discouragement, and exhaustion that came with you trying to make a decision, and he knew that he was powerless to stop you from growing more and more miserable.

 

You had a calendar in your apartment, hanging by the door, and he was staring grimly at the date as he waited for you to get dressed.  December 18th.  Just a couple more weeks until…

 

“Ready.”

 

He looked up, an easy grin slipping into place.  You wore a simple black dress, and already you were tugging uncomfortably at the hem.

 

“This is definitely shorter than I remember,” you grumbled.

 

“nice.”  He paired the compliment with an ostentatious wink, and it actually made you smile.  Good.

 

“You don’t look too bad yourself.”  The smile grew as you looked over his outfit again:  an untucked dress shirt with jeans and sneakers.  “You think a tie or something might’ve been too much?”

 

“oh yeah.  don’t wanna lay it on too thick.”

 

“I like the old stain here.”  You stepped closer and put a hand over a faded spot on his chest.  “Adds some mystery.”

 

“is it ketchup?”  He raised a brow and lowered his voice.  “or is it blood?”

 

You looked slightly alarmed.  “W-wait.  _Is_ it blood…?”

 

He laughed, and you joined in, and he could feel the background stress fade more and more as he put his arms around you.  You were still funny.  He could still make you smile.  Maybe that was a good sign.

 

As you opened the door to leave, the black cat strode in like he paid rent.  He hopped on the couch and started grooming himself as Sans muttered, “so…you thought of a name yet, or…?”

 

“I’m not naming him until he makes up his mind.”  You frowned at the cat, looking every bit like a disgruntled roommate.  “Does he wanna stay in?  Does he wanna go out?  I never know with the guy.”

 

Sans chuckled, “fair enough.”

 

Papyrus was waiting at the street in his convertible, wearing a tailored tux with a huge costume bowtie.  Toriel and Frisk had somehow managed to squish into the backseat—though Toriel loomed well over the windshield—and with you and Sans being such a slight pair, you were able to share shotgun.

 

You were all headed to a farewell gala being thrown for Alphys at her university.  It was apparently a high-brow affair—lots of important scientists and educators and even politicians would be there to see her off.  Sans couldn’t imagine how much Alphys must have been dreading it.

 

When you arrived and surrendered the convertible to a valet (after assuring Papyrus that no, this wasn’t a secret car-pirating sting), your group got a few second looks.  Even if this was a party being thrown for a monster, two skeletons and a recognizably huge goat seemed to stand out among the evening gowns and black suits.

 

“Woah,” you muttered from beside him, looking up at the tasteful decorations.  “This is like…a whole thing.”

 

“DR. ALPHYS IS A VERY IMPORTANT SCIENTIST!” Papyrus explained proudly.  “PEOPLE COME FROM EVERYWHERE TO MEET HER.  HER FRIEND-COUNT COULD MATCH EVEN MINE!”

 

“poor alph,” Sans chuckled.  “all this attention.”

 

“She certainly deserves it,” Toriel said.  He could see the way she was tightening her shawl around herself, trying (impossibly) to make herself less noticeable.  “But such events are often used as displays of solidarity toward the monster community which, while appreciated, can be…”

 

“Overwhelming?”  You were moving in steadily closer to Sans, holding his hand and shrinking against guests who clearly hadn’t thought they’d see a skeleton escorting a human.

 

“Precisely.”  Toriel was showing a similar discomfort.  There were a few reporters scattered around the event hall, and already Sans could see them working toward your group through the crowd.  She pulled Frisk a bit closer, despite the teen’s social enthusiasm.  He was sure if given the chance, they’d give an “Ambassador Exclusive” to anyone who asked.

 

“welp.  guess we’d better find undyne.”

 

“GREAT IDEA!” Papyrus agreed.  “PEOPLE NEVER BOTHER HER MAJESTY WHEN SHE’S AROUND!”

 

Near the stage at the end of the large room, you all found Undyne.  Her sharkish grin and strapless dress—which showed off an intimidating amount of muscle—seemed to do the trick.  Toriel relaxed, everyone received boisterous hugs, and the fish monster boomed, “Oh man, FINALLY.  Alphys was starting to worry you guys wouldn’t show up!”

 

“WHERE IS THE DOCTOR ANYWAY??”

 

Undyne pointed toward a cluster of chattering guests.  “Actually, I was just about to rescue her.  These things aren’t her favorite.”

 

Papyrus immediately lit up and gasped, “A RESCUE MISSION?”

 

Frisk looked similarly excited.

 

“HECK yeah!” Undyne barked, pumping her fists along with the two.  “Alright, we’re gonna need all our best bodies on the job.  So Sans is out.”

 

He shrugged while you stifled a snort.  “sounds about right.”

 

“Toriel’s a whole other, like, _protection_ mission, and we’ll do that after we get Al-pal.”  Undyne gave Toriel a respectful nod, who giggled and offered a thumbs-up.  “So that leaves Pap, Frisk, and obviously Naya.”

 

“W-wait, me?”

 

Undyne rolled her eyes.  “Uh, DUH??  I saw that crazy fire thing you did, and also you’re human?  You can be our undercover agent.  If things go south, just LIGHT IT UP.”

 

“Woah, woah, _woah I’m not doing that are you craz—_ ”

 

“Operation Doctor in Distress is a GO!”

 

Frisk had grabbed your other hand, and before Sans could do anything about it, they were pulling you along with the rest of the group.  You gave him a helpless look as he winced back, but you didn’t look unhappy.  Maybe you wanted this.  Maybe you wanted to joke around with your friends as much as you could, until…

 

“The antics never cease, do they?”

 

He glanced at Toriel.  She was watching them fondly, still keeping her arms around herself in a guarded stance.  Thankfully, they were far enough on the edge of the party that people weren’t paying them too much attention.  Sans knew from experience how tasteless reporters could be with their questions.

 

“i’m sure alphys appreciates it,” he chuckled back.

 

She snorted as Frisk crawled between the legs of one startled man to reach the center of the crowd.  “You know, if my child has taught me anything, it is that I am getting a bit too old to keep up.”

 

“psh.  you’re not old.”

 

“Hm.  And you are not lazy.”

 

He shrugged and winked.  “y’got me there.”

 

Their eyes turned back to the rescue mission.  He watched you signal awkwardly at the edge of the crowd, trying to communicate with Undyne on the other side despite the fact that she was a head taller than the other guests and you were a head shorter.  He smiled.

 

“Frisk adores her, you know.”

 

He didn’t look away.

 

“As do I.”

 

“heh.”  You took on a determined expression and forced your way through the wall of people, and his smile softened.  “…who wouldn’t?

 

They were silent for a moment, and then quietly Toriel asked, “Has she reached a decision yet?”

 

His face must have looked pretty pathetic, judging by the way Toriel was watching him.  He shrugged again.  “she, uh…she hasn’t really.  y’know.  brought it up much.”

 

A server stopped by them with a tray of champagne.  Toriel took a glass; Sans waved him away.  A few more breaths passed as she took a sip.

 

“Have _you?_ ”

 

“have i what?”

 

He was still watching their friends, so she tilted her head down to try and catch his eye.  “Have you reached a decision?”

 

Finally, reluctantly, he looked at her.  “what do you mean?”

 

“I mean, do you know what _you_ are going to do in two weeks?”

 

The corners of his mouth turned down.  “it’s not up to me, t.”

 

Her face was a mixture of sympathy and disapproval.  “Sans.  You cannot leave this up to her.  You cannot make her feel alone in this.”

 

“it’s not my call.  if she needs time to think then—”

 

“Perhaps she simple needs _help_ to think.”

 

“t, i’m not gonna tell her what to do.  whatever decision she makes—”

 

“ _Her_ decision does not equal _your_ decision.  And she knows that.”

 

His eyes widened.  He looked back at Undyne and Papyrus warding off the confused crowd as you and Frisk dragged Alphys away by her arms.  Your face was flushed, with just a bit of a smile playing around the edges as you gave guests apologetic looks.

 

“Have you told her yet?”

 

 _told her…?_ He tensed.  He tore his eyes away and gave her an incredulous look.  “heh.  almost afraid to ask.”

 

“Sans.”  Toriel was frowning at him knowingly.  “I can see the way you look at her.  The way you _are_ with her.  We can _all_ see it.”

 

He leaned back against the stage, looking at his feet.  All this time, he’d let you take the lead.  That had been important.  He wanted you to know that everything that happened between you, every step you took, was your call.  Not anyone else’s.  And that’s why he still hadn’t said anything.  Toriel was waiting patiently for an answer.  He _had_ an answer.  But he couldn’t say it.  Not yet.  Not out loud.

 

“…this is big, t,” he eventually murmured.  “me and her.  it’s…it’s a lot.”

 

“It is good though.  Is it not?”

 

“not even good.”  He glanced at your chagrinned smile.  “that’s not the right word.  it’s…she’s…she makes me…uh.  h-heh, words, um…”

 

His eyes rolled back to Toriel when she snorted.

 

“what’s so funny?”

 

“Nothing, I am sorry, it is just…there was a time when I could not read you, and now…”

 

“now you can _see right through me?_ ”

 

She let out a laugh and gave him a light shove, and then turned to lean beside him.  “Correct!”

 

He grinned up at her for a moment, and unbidden, he was filled with a wave of fear.  His hands fisted in his pockets, his mouth became tight and fixed, and he studied Toriel’s amused expression as a horrible thought occurred to him.

 

“…hey, t?”

 

“Yes?”

 

His pupils dimmed and his grin turned pleading.  “can you just…tell me what to do?”

 

She tilted her head.

 

“how do i not fuck this up?”

 

A pause, and then her face softened into an old regret, a comforting smile.  “Oh…oh, no, Sans, you do not have to worry about—”

 

“but i do.  i do have to worry about it, cuz i’ve done it.”

 

“That is not true.”

 

“right.  and you’re not old.”

 

She watched him as he turned away from her with a miserable expression, toward the ground, and soon she followed his gaze.  They sat in silence for a moment, another, and then Toriel hesitantly offered a paw.  It was a moment more before he took it.

 

“i don’t want to mess it up.  not this one,” he murmured.  “and it just feels…inevitable.  that i’ll say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing, or…”

 

“You just need to talk to her.”  Toriel’s hand enveloped his.  He’d almost forgotten how that felt.  “If you are afraid, tell her you are afraid.  She is probably feeling the same way.”

 

He looked at you again.  You were rubbing your neck and looking as embarrassed as Alphys as the others laughed.  “…sometimes i think that i met her too soon.  y’know?  like if i’d met her in a few years, given myself some more time to…i dunno.  pull my shit together.  then maybe i’d be…”

 

“Sans.  I cannot believe you need to be reminded of this…”  Toriel raised a brow at him.  “…but you are a good man.  You were then.  You are now.”

 

He snorted.  Toriel squeezed his hand a bit too hard, giving him that intent pout she only used when she was trying to make a point.  He managed to crack a smile in response.

 

“She is a smart woman, and she knows who she is getting into.”  She leaned closer for emphasis.  “And you need to _tell her_.”

 

He met her eyes, then once again, he looked at you.  This time, your gazes intersected.  You gave a grin and a shrug that was just for him, and he had to give it back. 

 

“…huh.  well, when you’re right you’re right.”

 

“Yes.  And I am always right.”

 

He chuckled.  “man, i gotta quit dating smart women.  always showing me up.”

 

She chuckled, giving his hand one last squeeze before releasing him.  She leaned over to give him another smile.  “So?  _Have_ you decided yet?”

 

You and your friends were coming back over.  Alphys looked relieved—if not a bit flustered—while Undyne, Papyrus, and Frisk were laughing and chattering excitedly.  You were still smiling at him.

 

“i think so,” he said, and then your hand was slipped in his and he was listening to the dramatic retelling of Alphys’ rescue.

 

He didn’t get a private moment with you for the rest of the party.  Undyne and Papyrus made a game of distracting reporters; Frisk charmed the other guests in spite of their muteness; you and Toriel stuck together against the crowd; and he kept holding your hand.  He kept stealing glances, seeing that for once you didn’t seem stressed.  You didn’t seem tormented.  You just seemed happy, joking with everyone and cheering when Alphys made her stuttered speech and expressing how hungry you were when you all finally sat down for dinner.  You were yourself.  You weren’t afraid.

 

And he’d made a decision.

 

You were content and quiet as servers began clearing everyone’s plates and bringing out dessert.  All the while you’d held his hand under the table, and all the while he’d watched you.  He wanted to preserve this safety.  He wanted you to stay relaxed, and happy, and he knew you’d never be able to do that alone.  This wasn’t a perfect solution, not by any means.  But it was the best he could do.

 

“naya,” he murmured at one point when everyone else was wrapped up in their own conversations.

 

You turned to him with a questioning smile.

 

He angled toward you.  He squeezed your hand in both of his and pulled it into his lap.  Your eyes flickered down briefly and your head tilted at the intensity in his gaze.

 

“i’m staying with you.”

 

Your face went blank.  “What…?”

 

He kept his voice low and inconspicuous.  These were words meant just for you.  “wherever you decide to go, i’ll be there.  i’m staying.”

 

And for a moment, just one confusing moment, you looked…unhappy.  He couldn’t process it as your eyes flickered away for a nanosecond, toward the others, and then the expression was gone.  You smiled.  You made way for relief, and you pulled him in for a hug, not caring that the others were watching, and even as he returned it, his resolve was wavering.

 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

 

He wanted to trust the delayed reaction.  He wanted to trust that he’d made the best decision he could, and he wanted to trust the kiss you left on his cheek as you pulled away.  But for that brief instant, you’d shown something honest and frightening, and he didn’t understand.

 

What was that?  Why had that been your first reflex?

 

What had he done wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zagged on you there at the last bit. you thought this would be a happy chapter? everyone's good and having fun with their friiiends? we open up emotionally and get rewarded for it? awwww, boo hoo wah wah this is the REAL WORLD you stupid babies. grow up.


	46. GHRISTMAS EVE: The Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha ha. um.
> 
> sorry ya'll.
> 
> Gonna be real, two things, two things everybody ONE: breath of the wild entered my home, fucked my wife, and i looked it in the eye and said "thank you can i get you anything to drink." TWO: have not been feeling great lately? ever since i moved i've been in a pretty depressive statttteee....????? so i apologize i kinda fell off the map there
> 
> but oh boy oh boy here we arrrrrre we're baaaaaaaack

“Wait, so you guys call it…’Gyftmas’?”

 

“Oh, not anymore.  Going along with the established holiday of the surface was an easy transition.  And poor Gyftrot never did like all the attention.”

 

You stared down at the icing you were mixing for a moment, shaking your head.  “That is a… _wild_ coincidence.”

 

“Is it not?” Toriel chuckled.

 

It was the morning of Christmas Eve, and you were busy helping Toriel make gingerbread cookies.  Well, trying to help.  She could bake as easy as breathing, and after you’d already burned your first lumpy batch, she’d politely switched you to decorating duty.  Frisk and Sans were wrapping presents in the living room, and soon the four of you would be off to meet up with the others for a holiday get-together.  It turned out that Christmas was about as big a deal for monsters as it was for humans.

 

“Haven’t done this since I was a kid,” you murmured at one point, dressing one gingerbread man in too-big buttons and an unfortunate smile.

 

“They look wonderful!” Toriel encouraged, but after a moment she added, “But, ah…perhaps your technique could use a little…sharpening?”

 

You snorted.  “Nice way of putting it.”

 

“Worry not!  It is just another thing I will need to teach you, my friend.”

 

You watched her as she grabbed a bag and produced a batch of perfect, uniform cookies, and you asked, “So like…at what point does the magic happen?”

 

Toriel smiled readily in that way she did whenever you let show your curiosity.  “It is happening throughout.  I exude it as I work.”  She finished her tray and started helping with yours.  “Similar to your synesthesia, healing has always come quite naturally to me.”

 

That gave you an idea, and as soon as you thought to concentrate, your eyes focused just enough to let you see the tiny specks of lavender light dusting off her hands like flour to coat the gingerbread.  You blinked to banish the vision, commenting, “It’s pretty.”

 

“Why thank you.”

 

“Is that something, like, _I_ could learn?”

 

She didn’t answer at first.  She was looking at you with a mixture of pride and…oh no.  That was sadness.  That was definitely sadness as she turned back to decorating and said quietly, “Perhaps, but…it would take time.”

 

“Oh…right.” 

 

You knew this would come up, but you still didn’t have any idea what to say about it.  You just looked away.  You put on a brave face and said, “I mean…we can still do lessons, can’t we?  Long-distance?”

 

“Of course.”  Not convincing.  “We will still be in contact.”

 

“Right.”  Really, really not convincing.  “There’s, like…Skype.  We could do that, or, uh…y’know.  Something.”

 

“…Yes.  Or something.” 

 

There was a heavy beat between you as she went back to the oven, and you tried desperately to think of what to say to reassure her, to reassure _you_ , but god, your mind _still_ wasn’t letting you go down that path, your mind wouldn’t visit what would happen just over a week from today, and it was coming, you couldn’t avoid it forever, soon your friends would be…

 

“You will be safe, will you not?”

 

The unhappiness was overtaking the forced optimism on her face as she pulled the rest of the cookies out to cool.  She gave you a worried look.

 

“Of…of course.”  You lost even more confidence at this particular question.  Without her, it was easy to let your magic exhaust you.  You’d thought of losing your friend, you hadn’t thought of losing your teacher.  “I won’t, y’know.  Do anything crazy?  Plus I’ll have—”

 

“Sans.”

 

She was looking behind you, and you turned to see Sans leaning in the doorframe.  Just like Toriel, he was trying not to look like there was a dark cloud over the holiday, and just like Toriel, he was failing.  Had he heard all that?

 

He cleared his throat.  “uh…got a text from paps.  they’re ready to get going.”

 

“Right!  Right, of course, of course.”  Toriel took a breath and put on a smile.  “We should all be together on Christmas Eve!”

 

She started placing all the cookies in a basket, and asked you and Sans to gather the generous haul of gifts she’d gotten everyone.  As the two of you stacked boxes by the door and waited for the Hoepfulls to get ready, you were silent.

 

It had been like this all week, ever since Alphys’ farewell banquet when he’d told you he was staying.  For a week, you’d been playing normal.  For a week, you’d told yourself this was a relief.  And for a week, you’d caught him looking at you with that pained, uncertain expression that was so nearly masked, so nearly hidden behind his easy grin, that you’d been afraid to bring it up.  You’d been afraid to confront the fact that the moment he told you he’d stay, the moment you knew you wouldn’t lose him, the moment you looked at your friends surrounding you and smiling and laughing, you’d felt sick.

 

You’d felt terrified.

 

“naya?”

 

You glanced at him, at the tentative concern on his face.

 

“you good…?”

 

You gave the same reply you’d given every time he asked.  You smiled.  “Yup!”

 

Before he could say anything, Frisk came out of their room with a backpack.  You knew what that meant.  You met their grin with an incredulous look.

 

“Ready!”  Toriel swept out of the kitchen with a covered basket in hand.  She took one look at Frisk, one look at the backpack, and without missing a beat said, “Does he have his hat?  Scarf?”

 

“ _Ugh_ , for the last time,” came the grumpy, muffled reply, “I don’t _need them_.”

 

“Well, flowers do not do well in the cold.  Have you packed them, Frisk?”

 

They gave a thumbs-up.

 

“Good.  Then let us be off.”

 

You all streamed out of the apartment, arms full of Christmas, and you immediately rushed up to Toriel’s side to hiss, “You’re just gonna let him tag along?”

 

Sans was right beside you, muttering, “you know he’s gonna grinch the whole thing up.”

 

“It is the season of giving,” she replied resolutely, “so perhaps we should give him a chance.”

 

“I can _hear_ you!”

 

You all looked back at Frisk and the flower who was now leering out of their backpack.  Despite his bravado, he’d managed to fit a hat over his blossom and a scarf around his stem.  Never had he looked less threatening.

 

“Aw, is that a baby hat?” you had to croon.  “It’s so little.”

 

“perfect fit,” Sans added.

 

“Shut up, shut up, _shut up!_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

 “YOU’VE NEVER ICE SKATED??” Papyrus squawked as you were all walking into town. 

 

The streets were busier than usual, with carolers and vendors and late Christmas shoppers clogging the sidewalk.  As usual, the humans gave your gaggle of monsters plenty of raised brows, but none of you were about to let that ruin your mood.

 

“Wait, SERIOUSLY?”  Undyne looked similarly outraged.  “Why not?!”

 

“It’s…a cold thing?  And I don’t like cold things?” you defended weakly.  As if to prove your point, a sudden chilly breeze rushed over you and caused you to nuzzle deeper into your puffy coat and scarf.

 

“But you get KNIFE SHOES.  Literal knives.  On your SHOES.”  She was getting wrapped up in her own excitement as she clenched a fist and went on, “If I could wear knife shoes every freaking day I would, but NO, that’s DANGEROUS, we gotta go to SKATING RINKS and stuff.”

 

Alphys looked a bit stressed at the notion.  “M-man.  If people wore skates all the time we’d never be able to have, like…h-hardwood floors.  Or any floors.”

 

“ICE floors!” Undyne enthused.

 

Alphys wrinkled her snout.  “Blegh…”

 

As the three of them got into the connotations of ice skates in a day-to-day setting, you looked around at Sans, Frisk and Toriel and asked, “Do you guys skate?  Am I the only rookie here?”

 

“yup.”

 

**Yup.**

 

“Well, it has certainly been a few years.”  Toriel put a pensive finger to her chin and murmured.  “Decades…?  No, no, surely not that long…”

 

“Looks like you’re the only loser then.”

 

You’d almost forgotten Flowey was accompanying you, until just his hat, squinting eyes, and immature jabs poked out from the backpack.

 

Sans immediately put an arm around you and said, “coming from the guy who doesn’t even have feet.”

 

Flowey scowled and opened his mouth to reply, but Toriel chimed in, “I suppose we could push his pot around on the ice.”

 

“Hey, what—”

 

“Or we could plant him in a skate,” you snorted.

 

“That’s the stupidest—”

 

**Like in Wall-E!**

“ _Quit it!_ ”

 

The rink was busy with holiday skaters.  There was no pair big enough to fit Toriel, so she guarded a spot in the stands where she could take pictures and set up the packed lunch she’d brought.  Papyrus could hardly stay sitting as he laced up and rushed to the ice as fast as he could.  Alphys leaned heavily on Undyne as she tried to balance on the skates, and they followed close behind Papyrus.

 

“Glad they’re excited,” you murmured as you struggled with your laces.

 

“are you not?”

 

You glanced up at Sans, who was standing as casually and confidently as if he wasn’t balanced on two thin blades.  You took on a petulant frown and whined, “I’m gonna fall.”

 

He chuckled, helping you rise shakily to your feet, and promised, “don’t worry.  i gotcha.”

 

You smiled appreciatively and met his eyes, and he grinned back, and it should’ve been a sweet, comforting, _normal_ moment, but neither of you were feeling normal lately, and you could still see it under his expression.  When your smile flickered a bit, his did too, and for a moment you feared you wouldn’t be able to keep up the façade.

 

“I’m gonna laugh when you eat ice.”

 

You were brought back to earth at Flowey’s sneer.  You looked at him, too dazed to think of retort, but Sans had you covered with, “i’m gonna laugh when we send you sliding like a hockey puck.”

 

“Sans!  Flowey!”  Toriel chastised, “Come now, it is Christmas!”

 

“sorry, t.  guess that was a little _cold_ of me.”

 

Frisk was actually laughing, much to Flowey’s dismay.  “Wh…whatever!  Maybe I don’t even _wanna_ go skating!”

 

Still wobbling, you frowned at him and said, “Hey, no, if _I_ have to beef it out there, you do too.”

 

 **She’s right,** Frisk signed, and before he could protest anymore they started prancing toward the rink with surprising grace.

 

“W-wait, Frisk, not so fast!” he snapped.  You couldn’t help feeling a little satisfied at the nervous waver in his voice.

 

“ready?”

 

He had one arm around your waist and the other holding your hand for support.  His smile was just a little too light to be convincing, but…maybe you could play normal.  You could pull it together for your friends.  For Christmas.

 

“Ready.”

 

Undyne was helping Alphys run slow laps around the rink wall, while Papyrus skillfully spun and glided around them.  Despite the teasing, Frisk was taking it slow with Flowey, always keeping both arms around the backpack.  At the edge of the ice, you looked down apprehensively.

 

“…Ice is pretty hard, right?”

 

“kinda.”

 

“Cool.  Cool, cool.”

 

He laughed and went out first, holding both of your hands as you nearly toppled with your first step.

 

“Ho jeez.  Okay, oh man…”

 

“don’t think about it,” he chuckled, moving backwards to pull you forwards.

 

“I’m already so bad at this?”  A group of tiny children skating past you with ease.  “How even…?”

 

“THAT IS AN ODD TECHNIQUE, NAYA!”  You spared a quick glance away from your own skates to see Papyrus skid to a stop beside you.  “BUT I BELIEVE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY MOVE YOUR FEET!”

 

“Yeah, cool, ok I’ll just…”  You tried to take a baby-step forward, and one foot almost flew out from under you.  You fell against Sans’ chest and were subjected to his laughter as you regained your balance.

 

“pro-tip: ice is slippery.”

 

You glared at him, blowing a bit of hair out of your face.  “Ha ha.”

 

“I-i-it’s ok Naya, y-you’ll get the— _eep!—_ hang of it.”  Alphys had advanced from holding the wall to holding Undyne’s hand, and even her shaky pace was leagues above yours.

 

“When I’m done making Al-pal an expert,” Undyne said as they passed, “I’ll show YOU the ropes!”

 

“Just gotta…y’know…learn how not to fall first,” you muttered to Sans.

 

“is that what you’re nervous about?  falling?”

 

“A little?”  You pouted.  “It’ll hurt.  And it’s cold.  It’ll make my butt cold, Sans.”

 

He laughed, moving away a bit so you were at arm’s length.  You were marginally less wobbly.  “tell you what,” he said, “if you fall…”  His eye flashed blue for just a moment.  “i’ll catch you.  no cold butts on Christmas.”

 

It was slow going, but eventually you had just one hand in Sans’ and were moving at a reasonable speed.  There was no way you’d ever be able to keep up with Undyne or Papyrus—who were racing in a way that might’ve been too dangerous with how many other people were on the rink—but you didn’t feel like every step would send you tumbling.  You even reached a point where you kept overtaking Frisk.  It wasn’t that they couldn’t skate, but every time you passed them you could hear the shrill protests of, “Slow down!” and “Eas— _easy,_ easy,” and “If you fall you’ll crush me and I’ll _die_ , Frisk, _I’ll be dead!_ ”  The poor kid even started to look frustrated as more and more people passed them.

 

“having fun?” Sans chuckled at the flower at one point.

 

“Shut up,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the ice in front of them.

 

 **But fast can be fun,** Frisk tried to convince him, but he wasn’t having it.

 

You frowned, giving them a sympathetic look and, before you could come to your senses, you said, “Hey, uh…wanna ride with me for a little bit then?”

 

All three of them gave you odd looks, with Flowey being the first to sneer, “With _you?_ ”

 

You glanced at Sans.  “Ugh, I mean…yeah.  Yeah, Frisk, you go have fun for a little bit.  I’m not going any faster.  And Sans, if you wanna go eat or whatever…?”  You didn’t want to subject him to the annoying little flower’s company.

 

Frisk nodded appreciatively and started to pass the backpack over.

 

“Wait, who says I _want_ to skate with you?!”

 

“babe, you don’t gotta…”

 

“It’s fine.”  You were already putting it on over your chest.  “Seriously, I’m good.  Plus I wanted to try getting confident on my own, so…”

 

He glanced up at Toriel, who’d been joined by Alphys to start putting together some sandwiches.  “i mean…if you’re sure.  i’ll stay on fall duty, alright?”

 

You smiled and gave his hand a last squeeze, and then both of them split off, leaving you alone with Flowey.

 

At first, you tried to ignore him, gritting your teeth and focusing on your balance as you tried to get to a semi-decent level of skating.  He wasn’t throwing out the same protests he’d had with Frisk, but one glance down at the backpack saw two leaves clutching the opening tightly, and his flat eyes were trained nervously ahead.  You didn’t want to initiate conversation, but…god, what was this weird sympathy you’d been feeling for him lately?

 

“Hey uh…you know you can relax.”

 

He didn’t reply beyond a quiet scoff.

 

“I’m not the best skater, but Sans’ll catch us if anything happens, so…”

 

“With magic?”

 

“Yeah, I assume.”

 

He turned to you with a disgusted look.  “You let him use _blue magic_ on you?”

 

“Uh.  I guess?  Something wrong with that?”

 

He scowled and muttered, “Psh.  Guess not if it’s _you_.”

 

You let him sulk for another moment, but your defensiveness got the better of you when you asked, “What do you have against him anyway?  Why’re you always more of a butt toward him?”

 

“Because of none-ya.”

 

“…Alright.  Don’t tell me then.”

 

You looked around and noticed that everyone else had made their way back to Toriel to eat lunch, and the rink was emptier than it had been at the beginning of the day.  It made you feel a little bit more confident in going faster, but as soon as you did, Flowey hissed, “ _Easy_ , gosh.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

There was more silence between you.  Every time you glanced up, Sans was watching with a smile and a little wave.  You’d smile back and look at everyone else, laughing and passing food together, and think that maybe you should join them.  You wanted to joke around without thinking.  You wanted distraction.  Yet every time you passed the exit, you kept going.  What were you doing?  You should be with them.  You shouldn’t waste time.  After all, you didn’t have long before they’d be…

 

“So the smiley trash-bag’s staying behind too, huh?”

 

You blinked.  You looked down at Flowey, who was still looking ahead.

 

“Sans?”

 

He rolled his eyes.  “Duh.”

 

“I…I guess.  Yeah.”

 

“Pft.  Figures.  He’s so gross about you.”

 

You didn’t want to talk about this, least of all with him.  You weren’t supposed to let it get to you.  Not today.  You stayed quiet and watched the ice as you passed the exit again.

 

“Frisk’s not happy about it.  Both of you staying.”

 

That stung.  You stumbled and had to put a hand to the wall to catch yourself.  “Wh…they’re…”

 

His tone was low and sullen as he went on, “They’ve been moping about it all week.  It’s not just one dumb friend they’re losing, its—”

 

“I didn’t ask him to.”

 

He glanced at you.  The defense had come unbidden, and all you could do was close your mouth and look ahead and not let those words overtake you.  You passed your friends again, looking down at you and waving cheerily from the stands, and you felt tightness settle over your heart.

 

“But if it wasn’t for you, he’d be going back to Ebott, right?”

 

This time, you met his eyes.  “I didn’t ask him to stay, alright?”

 

He sneered.  “You sound pretty mad about it for someone who’s supposed to _like_ the guy.”

 

“What is your problem?”

 

“What’s _your_ problem?”  He spun around to face you completely, lifting his blossom out of the backpack.  “Why are you doing this?”

 

“Doing wh—”

 

“Why won’t you come?”

 

You balked, caught completely off guard.  “I…told you.  I can’t.  There’s—”

 

“That’s so stupid.”  He looked confused and annoyed.  “You come in and make friends with them, and they like you, and they trust you, and for whatever idiot reason you just—”

 

“You don’t think I want to go?”

 

You’d raised your voice, and that little adjustment was enough to make you fumble.  You tried to reach out to the wall, your feet were moving out from under you, and then…you were suspended.  Your point of gravity had shifted to your chest, and it was holding you upright.  You looked at the stands; Sans had one hand raised, one eye glowing, and an alarmed expression.  You could see the sigh of relief he breathed as he gave you a questioning thumbs up.

 

“Uh…”  The feeling of weightlessness slowly wore off as you got a hold of the wall.  “You…ok?”

 

Flowey said nothing.  He was clutching the edge of the backpack, and you were almost certain you could see his petals shaking.

 

“…Let’s just…take a break then.”

 

Finally admitting it was sending a whole new fear through your gut.  You didn’t even want to defend yourself at this point.  You wanted to get away from him, and get away from this conversation.  You kept your head down as you slowly skated back toward the exit, toward Sans.  He was coming down the steps to meet you.  Just before you reached the edge of the rink, Flowey murmured something almost too quiet for you to hear.

 

“It’s gonna be weird without you around.”

 

“What?”

 

He didn’t repeat himself.  He retreated down into the backpack and stayed quiet, and for a moment, you just stood at the edge of the wall, more uncertain and unhappy than ever before.  You didn’t want to join them, yet you didn’t want to be alone.  You didn’t want to think.  You didn’t want…

 

“hey.”

 

Sans was offering a hand and a smile that quickly tensed when he saw your expression.  He glanced down at the backpack, then said, “it’s, uh, kinda tricky to step off.  thought i could throw you a _bone_.  heh.”

 

You nodded, but you didn’t crack a smile.  You took his hand.  You ignored the concerned look he was now giving you, and you started back toward the others, feeling your gut twist as you heard their voices, their laughter.

 

“Anaya!” Toriel trilled.  “Such wonderful improvement out there!”

 

“How about I show you some tricks after we eat?!” Undyne offered with a food-filled grin.

 

“LIKE A FANCY FLIPPY JUMP!”

 

“YEAH, one of those!”

 

“I-I made you a sandwich, Naya.  I d-didn’t know if you wanted turkey or h-ham though…”

 

Frisk came to take Flowey, grin up at you, and sign, **Thanks Naya.  I like going fast every now and then!**

You just stared back at them all wordlessly.  Your hand was still in Sans’, and he was still watching you, trying to read your mind and worrying, but you were caught up in a revelation.  You were looking at these people who you’d come to think of as home, and you were seeing them greet you, and it was so normal, and natural, and comfortable, and you’d never, ever had that, and you realized that at some point in these past few crazy, wonderful months, you’d stumbled into a family.

 

How would you ever live without these people?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she's dumb, she's dumb, she's so dumb oh my god she's dumb naya??? sweetie???? baby this is mom you're dumb you need to figure this out ok?


	47. Anyway Here's Wonderwall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [LOOK HERE BOY You'll need this right around the middle you'll know when, probably](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_b0I4KVpFk)

When you were growing up, Christmas had always been your favorite holiday.  Your parents hadn’t started fully celebrating it until you’d grown up enough to go to preschool and listen to your friends gush about presents, Santa, and decorating their trees, and your childish begging was enough to bring them around.  It remained low-key, just your parents and you, just a modest tree, just a few presents to unwrap, but every year was dear to you.  For two days, your parents would lose their sternness, your house would smell like oranges and cloves, and in those early years, you could safely believe in magic.

 

Now it was Christmas again, and you were with your closest friends, and magic had become real.

 

And you were unhappy.

 

You were all standing outside Undyne and Alphys’ condo after ice skating, sore and chattering good-naturedly.  At the back of the group, loosely holding Sans’ hand, you were looking away from it all.  You were looking up at the sky.  No snow, just gray.

 

“PRESENT TIME!!” Papyrus sang, prancing inside with Frisk on his heels.

 

“Should we not have dinner first?” Toriel chuckled.

 

“YEAH, me and Al-pal spent all that time making it!!”

 

“Th-thanks again f-for the recipes, Toriel.”

 

“naya?”

 

You looked away from the clouds when Sans gently tugged your hand.  He was smiling, but the tilt of his brow betrayed his worry.

 

“Huh…?”

 

“we’re all going in.”

 

“Oh.  Right.”

 

You tried to follow everyone, but Sans stood still without letting go of you.  You glanced back at him in confusion.  His eyes flickered between you and the open door as bits of his smile dissolved.

 

“naya, is…are you…”  He made eye contact for a moment, then blinked, took a breath, and said, “i think, uh…that we need to talk about stuff?”

 

You could feel the anxiety melt into your expression.  You pulled at him slightly as you replied, “U-um…I mean…maybe not, uh, right now—”

 

“no, it’s…we have to, babe.  tell me what’s—”

 

“After.”  Your voice was firm and clear, and for a moment you just stared at each other.  You repeated, “After, okay?”

 

He searched your face one more time before letting out a sigh.  He squeezed your hand and murmured, “…okay.”

 

Your friends were either oblivious or you were hiding your emotions better than you thought, because the scene inside was instantly cheerful.  Undyne and Alphys had decorated a tree that took up a good fourth of their living room, nestled in between the wall and the piano.  The presents underneath were either immaculately wrapped or so shoddy that you could see bits of the gift poking out.  Papyrus and Frisk were sitting next to it, both trying to coax Flowey out of the backpack.  You joined them quietly, sitting on the couch and doing your best to stay in the moment and not get caught up in your thoughts.  Sans stayed next to you.  He did a much better job of playing happy, throwing puns in the mix of Frisk and Papyrus’ efforts, much to their distaste.

 

Soon, Toriel was helping Undyne and Alphys bring out dinner.  The happy small-talk continued around you as you all ate, focused on Christmas, ice skating, and, worst of all, their plans for moving back to Ebott.  You didn’t have much of an appetite, but you ate just to have an excuse to stay out of the conversation.

 

“Y-you know, Papyrus, enrollment for E.U. is s-still open.”

 

He nodded enthusiastically.  “YES!!  I’M ALREADY LOOKING AT CLASSES FOR SPRING!”

 

“I cannot tell you how proud I am to see you pursue your education, dear,” Toriel praised.

 

He clacked his hands to the side of his skull.  “W-WOWIE, YOUR MAJESTY!  I WOULD BE PROUD IF I WERE YOU, TOO!”

 

“When do your classes start back up, Toriel?” Undyne asked around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.  “I miss those scamps!”

 

She sighed and put a hand to her forehead.  “Just a few weeks.  I will admit, I get a bit tired just thinking of everything I have to do once we are home…”

 

“And what about YOU guys?”

 

You were focusing on picking apart the layers of your biscuit, but the expectant silence made you look up.  Everyone’s eyes were on you and Sans.

 

“Wh…?”

 

“Where’re you gonna live even?!”  Undyne’s eye widened with glee as she gasped, “Wait…are you gonna MOVE IN TOGETHER??”

 

Your mouth gaped for a second, a sentence trying and failing to form.  “O-oh…we don’t…I mean, I haven’t, um…”

 

“we’ve still gotta wrap up our leases, so we’re going over our options.”  Sans was grinning easily, but under the table, he gave your knee a reassuring squeeze.  You just stared at him, a bit of relief rushing through you.

 

This seemed to satisfy her.  She gave Papyrus and Alphys determined looks and said, “Man, we still need to plan a goodbye party, huh?”

 

Alphys cocked her head.  “I-isn’t this kind of…?

 

“NO WAY!” Papyrus gestured to the tree.  “THIS IS FOR _CHRISTMAS,_ AND CHRISTMAS IS NO TIME TO BE SAD!!”

 

“That is very true,” Toriel sighed wistfully.

 

“We’ve gotta go all out though.  Like, an EPIC send-off.”

 

You wanted to change the subject, but you didn’t want to speak up.  Just the word “goodbye” had made your throat close.  You could feel Sans watching you from the corner of his eye.  He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a voice came from next to you.

 

“ _Ugh_ , are we gonna sit here all night, or will you idiots just get this whole Christmas thing over with?”

 

You’d almost forgotten Frisk sitting silently next to you, and more than that, you’d forgotten Flowey.  He finally had his blossom sticking out of the backpack and was sneering at everyone but you.

 

**I second that!** Frisk signed with a grin.

 

“I THIRD IT!!”  Papyrus couldn’t get to the tree fast enough, and with a few laughs, everyone stood and started to follow.

 

You felt your body relax a fraction, and once the table was almost unoccupied, Frisk tapped your arm.  They gave you a secretive thumbs up, and at their chest Flowey looked as moody as ever, but not malicious.  They sprang after the others and left you watching them numbly.

 

“come on,” Sans said gently.  He helped you up and put an arm around your waist, like he was supporting you.  Like you were sick or something.  “we can sit together.”

 

Everyone had come prepared with gifts.  Small things, nothing too extravagant, and with the topic steered firmly away from goodbyes, Sans on one side of you and Frisk on the other, you relaxed a bit more.

 

“ALRIGHT!” Undyne boomed, “Let’s draw straws to see who gives first!”

 

Papyrus drew short.  He’d gotten everyone a box of dried pasta.  Amid the laughter and thank-yous he explained, “EVERY PASTA IS SPECIAL, JUST LIKE MY FRIENDS!”

 

You managed to smile down at your bowtie noodles, and when you glanced over to see Sans holding a box of Kraft mac and cheese, you actually snorted.  The sound of it brightened his face, too, and he turned to you with a wink to say, “easy _and_ cheesy, just like me.”

 

Your smile widened.  “Suits you.”

 

There was nothing like a lap full of presents to cheer you up, you realized as the night wore on.  Frisk had built everyone a personalized LEGO figure; Alphys gave out key chains she’d built which, incredibly, had tiny screens playing funny gifs in a loop; and Undyne just gave you a straight up knife.

 

“A-ah, wait, hold on, perhaps not yet,” Toriel said as she took Frisk’s gift-knife from their hand, much to their disappointment.

 

“C’mon, Toriel, kid’s gotta learn sometime!”

 

As she put the knife safely in her purse, Sans said, “guess it’s me then.”

 

His presents were just tied up in plastic grocery bags, and everyone let out various sounds of confusion when inside there was nothing but a light bulb.

 

“you know what they say,” he started.  Slowly, he took one and put it over his head.  His grin widened.  “it’s the _thought_ that counts.”

 

The chorus of groans finally made you laugh, and Toriel was the only other one to join in.  Undyne actually threw her light bulb at him.  Alphys had to step in and raise a claw to Papyrus and Frisk before they followed suit.

 

“G- _glass,_ glass, glass shatters guys!”

 

“Where’s mine?” you asked.

 

His face softened and he put an arm around your shoulders.  He looked so happy to see you smiling.  “you’ll get your present later.”

 

“GROSS!” Undyne booed, to which Sans just replied with a wink.

 

“Anaya, that means it is your turn,” Toriel said, still grinning and wiping her eyes.

 

“Oh.  Oh, ok, um…”  Your gifts had been put under the tree along with everything Toriel brought, and Frisk was already pulling out the bundle.  “O-ok.  Those’re all just labeled, so…”

 

You’d given everyone a beaded bracelet.  Nothing fancy, just plastic on an elastic string, but each one matched the color of the recipient’s soul.  You glanced around self-consciously as the wrapping paper was torn away, and you admitted, “I mean…I wasn’t sure if that would be weird?  But I just thought—”

 

“Oh, how beautiful!” Toriel immediately crooned.  She slipped hers on and admired it like it was a piece of fine jewelry, then grabbed Frisk’s hand to do the same to theirs.

 

“Holy cow, it looks just like you, babe!”  Undyne was grinning between hers and Alphys’.  “These are AWESOME!”

 

You thought Papyrus might start crying from joy as he squeaked, “I HAVE HEARD OF THE FABLED ‘FRIENDSHIP BRACELET,’ BUT THIS IS EVEN _BETTER THAN I THOUGHT!_ ”

 

The tentative cheer building in you gave another happy flutter at everyone’s gratitude.  “Oh, well…cool.  Glad it’s not a rude thing.”

 

“sweet digs.”  Glancing at Sans, you saw him holding his blue bracelet up to his face, but his sockets were empty.  “think it brings out my eyes?”

 

“Oh, definitely,” you giggled.  “You’re a winter for sure.”

 

“I suppose I am the last then!”  Toriel reached for the tree to grab a stack of uniform, rectangular gifts.

 

“You give out the same thing every year.”  Flowey piped up, glaring over at Toriel over the rim of the backpack.  “Why bother wrapping them?”

 

“Because unwrapping is half the fun!” she replied kindly as she passed out the presents.

 

“I always really l-like your present, Toriel,” Alphys said.

 

“WE LOOK FORWARD TO IT EVERY YEAR!”

 

She smiled.  “And I look forward to giving it!”

 

Intrigued, you watched as Alphys opened and held up her gift to Undyne, gasping, “H-honey, look!”

 

“Oh man, HALLOWEEN!  You looked so freaking CUTE!!”

 

She turned it around for everyone to see, and you realized that every gift was a framed picture.  Alphys’ was her and Undyne posing in their magic-girl cosplays.

 

“MINE’S THANKSGIVING!”  Papyrus brandished a photo of him pulling the turkey out of the oven, looking overjoyed at how perfectly it had come out.

 

Undyne grinned at hers and laughed, “Oh YEAH, the moving race!!  Did you get this from Al-pal?!” 

 

“She m-might’ve.”

 

Undyne was slapping her knee as she looked at her picture.  You felt a jolt to realize it had you too—it was that first day you met her, and she’d put you on her shoulders and raced Papyrus to and from the moving truck.  You were grinning as manically as she was.  How long ago had that been…?

 

“heh…”

 

You looked at Sans, and at the still, strange expression on his face as he looked down at his picture.  He was wearing a ribcage hoodie, and you were dressed like a witch, and you were both dancing.  Your arms were in the air, your cloak was swishing around you, and your expression was so young and careless and _happy_ , but then you looked at him, and…and you’d been there, you’d been right there, but you couldn’t remember him gazing at you like _that._   Like he couldn’t take his eyes off you, like he was surprised and relaxed all at once, like he wanted you, he’d _wanted_ you, all that time, even then.  You glanced up at the face he was wearing now, the softness that you couldn’t quite read, and thought of how much he’d been worrying about you.

 

“Open yours, Naya!”

 

“YES, LET’S SEE IT!”

 

You blinked.  Right.  You hadn’t even touched your wrapping.  You peeled it away distractedly, looked down at it for a few moments, and tried to process it.

 

It was…everyone.  It took you a second to realize where you were, then you looked at the nice clothes and remembered.  This had just been just a week ago at Alphys’ farewell gala.  Unlike the other photos, it was a selfie, with all of you crowding around Toriel.  There was Undyne hugging Alphys from behind.  There was Papyrus striking a goofy pose with Frisk.  There was Toriel in the foreground, smiling and flushed.  There was Sans, and he was…oh, of course, he’d given you two boney bunny ears, you hadn’t even realized.  You were just grinning obliviously, you were just…grinning.  You were in the middle of all of them, and you were grinning.

 

Everyone was hugging and thanking each other and wishing them merry Christmas Eve, but you kept staring at the picture.  The temporary lightness inside you seemed to be frozen.  For once, your thoughts weren’t screaming and rushing, they were still, and again, you looked at Sans.  He was still looking at his picture, too, and one of his fists was clenched.  He’d said you needed to talk.  He was right.  You reached out to touch his wrist.

 

An insistent tugging at your sleeve stopped you.  You turned to Frisk, who was smiling and pointing at the picture they’d received.  You were in this one, too.  You and Frisk were sitting on the living room floor with your guitars in your laps, and beside the teen, Flowey was watching you play with something approaching interest.  It looked like you were singing.

 

“One of our lessons,” you murmured.

 

They nodded, then tugged your sleeve again and pointed toward the piano.  You instantly recognized their guitar case propped up against the bench—you hadn’t even noticed them bring it along.  They pointed at the picture, then back at the guitar, then at you.  They cocked their head questioningly.

 

“You want me to…?  Oh.  Oh, um…I mean, I don’t know if—”

 

Your protest died as they dragged you to your feet.  They pulled you away from Sans, who finally looked up from his picture to watch you go.  He was smiling, but…what was that expression?  There was some kind of concentration within it that was throwing you off.

 

“Wait, are you guys gonna play?!”  Undyne was picking up dirty dishes, but her ears perked straight up to see the two of you headed for the piano.  “We should have a jam session!”

 

Papyrus gasped.  “YOU SHOULD PLAY CHRISTMAS MUSIC!”

 

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Toriel beamed.

 

Frisk was grinning in agreement as they carefully set their backpack on the ground.  They brought out the guitar, passed it to you, and signed, **You first.**

 

You hesitated for just a moment before taking it.  The weight in your lap was comforting, and the feeling of the strings was distracting.  Undyne soon came to join you.  With one last look at Sans, you started to play.

 

You and Undyne showed Frisk some basic carols, and the others soon fell into pleasant chatter as they listened.  Just as you’d hoped, the music was keeping you from your thoughts.  There wasn’t anything confusing or sad about Jingle Bells.  Eventually, Frisk moved you toward some of the songs they’d been working on with you—they were getting a kick out of the skillful accompaniment by Undyne.

 

“Sweet Caroline’s really coming along,” you complimented at one point.

 

“Hey, don’t you sing?” Undyne asked, pounding out an enthusiastic “BA-BA-BAA” on the keys.

 

“Uh.  Kind of?”

 

Frisk immediately stopped playing as their eyes lit up.  They shoved the guitar in your hands before you could protest.

 

“HELL yes!” Undyne cackled.  “What should we do?!”

 

Caught off guard, you stammered, “U-um, I dunno, should we do more Christmas stuff?”

 

“ _Another_ Christmas song?” Flowey whined, looking like he might throw up.

 

**A love song!**

“For Christmas though…?”

 

“Christmas is all ABOUT love!”

 

**I wanna hear a new one,** Frisk went on.  **One you haven’t taught me.**

“I mean…”  You glanced at Undyne.  “I dunno what songs you know.”

 

She puffed out her chest and grinned.  “Trust me, I can follow along.”

 

Frisk pounded their fists.  **Love song!  Love song!  Love song!**

 

_Love songs, huh?_ Reflexively, you glanced at Sans.  He was smiling at the others, listening and saying nothing, but you caught him just as he looked back down at his photo, his and yours.  When that quiet look overtook his face again, you said, “Ok, I…think I have one.”

 

You started out rough.  You had to find the right key.  You fumbled over the chords, but once you found your footing, you could feel just how old and familiar the tune was. After just a few measures, Undyne came in with a minimal harmony. 

 

This was it.  This was the song.  This was the one you didn’t ever share, or play in public.  This was the one you held close and private.  It was imperfect, and boring, and ever since you’d heard it you’d thought…yeah.  That’s what you wanted in a love song.  Just coffee, and laundry, and laughing.

 

You closed your eyes, and of course, of _course_ he was there to greet you behind your eyelids.  You started smiling to yourself, and the smile found its way into your voice, into your hands.  He was imperfect and a little boring.  So were you.  It wasn’t always passion and it wasn’t without its bumps.  You had days when you couldn’t bring yourself to happiness, and then you had days like in the photographs, when you were just grinning and grinning and grinning.  It was warm.  It was quiet.  It made you feel like this.

 

You didn’t notice when the talking stopped, and everything fell still but the strings, the keys, and your voice.  For the first time in weeks, you were feeling some clarity.  You were feeling some peace.  A fear hiding in the back of your mind worried that this peace would end with the song, but until then, you were happy to sing it.

 

This was the song.

 

You finished.  You opened your eyes, and again, he was there to greet you, and for all you cared, he was the only one.  His face was slack and his hands were clasped tightly around the frame in his lap.  His pupils rose from your guitar to your eyes, and in his stare you saw something so much bigger and warmer than you could ever be ready for.  He looked at you like you were something far more incredible than human.

 

And then everyone else was clapping.  You didn’t turn away from him at first, then you blinked around at everyone as they smiled and praised you.  Most hadn’t even known you could sing.  The surprise and admiration fell through you without really sticking, because as you looked around at these people, these people who you could no longer see yourself without, as you looked at _him_ , you realized that soon…

 

This would just be another photograph.

 

* * *

 

 

The walk back to your apartment was quiet.

 

The night was the coldest it had been, but still, it wouldn’t snow.  The overcast made the city pitch black outside of the streetlights.  The darkness plus the chill made you press close against him as you went, but still, there was little conversation.  Your mind was a knotted mess.  Every time you looked at him, you couldn’t read his expression, but you could tell he was thinking.

 

The black cat was eager to go inside.  He sat right next to the threshold and twisted his head toward the two of you as you approached.

 

“maybe the weather will finally keep him in,” Sans commented.

 

“Maybe.”

 

The three of you entered, and the cat went right for the food dish.  Silently, you took off your coat and your boots.  You set the photographs down on the coffee table.  You watched him from the corner of your eye—not moving, not undressing.  You’d both said you needed to talk.  You’d both agreed to it, but…where to start?  Where to begin when it came to untangling your thoughts?  As you were struggling to find an opening line, a single clear reminder popped into your mind.

 

“Oh.  Right.  I, um…”  You grabbed a shopping bag from the couch.  You’d almost forgotten.  “The bracelet was just so…y’know, everyone could have one.”

 

He glanced down at the bag.  “you got me something?”

 

“’Course I did.  It’s, um…well, I actually didn’t get around to wrapping it.” 

 

You passed it over, and he gave you a questioning look.

 

“Y-you can look, if, uh…if you want.”

 

Out of the bag he pulled a box with a night-sky design on it, labeled “Starry Night Ceiling Light.”  The flat expression melted a bit as he turned it in his hand, murmuring, “what is…?”

 

“It’s like…it’s a projector,” you explained.  When you’d gotten it, you’d been so excited to give it to him.  You just wished it was under better circumstances.  Regardless, you took it from his hands and started to unpack it, saying, “The batteries are already in so…so I can just show you.”

 

He watched you quietly as you fiddled with it in the dark room.  You turned it over in your hands before placing it on the table, aiming it to the ceiling, and flipping the switch.

 

Instantly, the two of you were surrounded by stars.  They speckled the wall with constellations and painted the black cat with the milky way.  It looked even better than you’d hoped.  You looked at Sans and the pricks of light patterned over his bones.  The lights in his eyes blended right in.  He picked up the projector and watched the way the stars moved around him, and for a breath, he just stared at it in his hands.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

He took a moment to answer.  He looked around, eyes wide and jaw slack, until his gaze fell on you.  Slowly, numbly, he shook his head and muttered, “i…naya…i can’t…keep this up.”

 

You froze.  Your voice was shaky when you replied, “What do you…?”

 

“i know you don’t want to talk about it.”  His voice was low and his words were careful.  “and…and i get that.  but you…”

 

“I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I’ve been so…”

 

“no, naya, it’s…”  His fingers curled around the projector.  “i’ve been trying to make you happy.”

 

Your eyes widened in panic.  “You _do_ make me—”

 

“i’ve been trying to make you happy without asking you how to do that, and that’s…naya, i don’t know what i’m doing.  i’m an idiot, and i just say what i think will work, and all i know is…i just know that i can’t…”  He took a shuddering breath.  “i can’t be _without_ you, naya, and that’s…i’m…”

 

You watched him for a moment.  Words were failing you.  Thoughts were failing you.  When you opened your mouth, the only whisper that came out was, “I’m scared.”

 

“i’m sorry,” he whispered back.

 

“I don’t know what to do, Sans.”

 

“i know.  i don’t want to tell you what’s right.”  He searched your eyes as his took on a harder edge.  You saw his jaw tense.  “but i…i think i know what’s right, cuz it’s not just me.  i’m not…i’m not the only person involved in this.  there’s tori and frisk, and paps, undyne and alph…”

 

You stared, confused and shaking, as he looked down at the pictures.

 

“you should be with us.  _all_ of us.”

 

You followed his eyes.  Back then, you were grinning.

 

“i know that’s scary.  i…i haven’t even really thought through it, y’know?  i know there’s a lot of old, evil shit waiting back home for you.  but i’ll see you just… _look_ at everyone, and at me, and it’s like…you’re panicking.  naya, i don’t know what we’d do when we get there.  i don’t know, i really don’t.  but lately i think…you didn’t just come to me.  you came to _us._ ”

 

The terror inside you was turning into something else, but you didn’t know what yet.  You had to speak back.  You had to talk through this.  You had to know where the fear was even _coming_ from.

 

“they love you.”

 

“Sans—”

 

“i love you.”

 

Something in you, something deep in your chest, something that had been coiled and quavering all this time…released.  The fog in your mind cleared.  Out of nowhere, you began to cry.

 

“oh…fuck.”  Sans face was a mess.  Anxiety, panic, and love…god, _love_ …fought over him as he nearly dropped the projector.  He took a step back.  He watched you in your silent, stunned state and hissed, “i-i didn’t…i-i’m sor…”

 

He wanted you to say something.  He needed you to say something, say something, _say something!_

 

His shock faded, darkened, he put a hand on his head and muttered, “i’m…i’ll…”  His voice was so quiet, so unsure.  “i didn’t mean…to put that on you.  not…not now.  not yet.”

 

_Say something say something say something say something—_

 

“i shouldn’t have…”  He was backing toward the door.  He was trying to compose himself, trying to put on that mask, but how could he?  “i know…you need to think.  yeah.  i’ll…if you still want to be there, i’ll just…tomorrow.  ok?”

 

He was at the door.  He was moving too fast.  He _was_ too fast, his form was blinking by inches as he left, and then he opened the door, and then he closed it behind him, you heard it click and then—

 

“ _Shit…!_ ” 

 

You _ran_.  You ripped the door open.  He was gone already.  He was gone, of course he was, but that wasn’t right, he needed to be here right _now_ you needed to be with him right _now_ there was no time, you needed to be there, be here, be there, _now, now, now_ —

 

You felt a pressure against your ribs, you felt a tearing in your soul, and you felt something gush, something like blood, were you…were you bleeding?  Was that blood lashing out of you?  Searching the air, looking for him because you needed to be _there there there,_ and— _there!_

 

Something latched on to something else, something familiar and blue and electric, and you _pulled_ , and you were—

 

There.

 

You gasped as the balcony suddenly became a bedroom.  A bedroom painted with stars.  He was right in front of you, holding the projector and staring at the walls and then, suddenly, whipping toward you.  His eye flashed bright and terrible for a startled moment, replaced with disbelief as he took you in.

 

“the fu—”

 

“Sans!  Sans, I—”  You retched.  You started to fall to the ground, and his hands immediately caught you, the projector making a dull thud as it fell to the carpet.  The stars on the walls danced wildly, and your golden light mixed with it.

 

“shit, _shit,_ what just…what the fuck just—”

 

“I love y— _hurgh—_ too!”

 

You didn’t think he heard you.  He was looking feverishly over you, checking to see if you were going to pass out, checking your soul until, gently, it melted back inside you.

 

“ _Sans!_ ”

 

He blinked.  He searched your eyes, still in complete shock.  “…what?”

 

“You’re right.  You’re right.”

 

“wh—”

 

“I’m going.”

 

He blinked again.  “i…ok, but…are you…how did…? w-water, you need water, i’ll get you some water, i’ll—”

 

“I’m going with…with everyone…”  Your head rolled forward.

 

“ _fuck_ , ok, yeah, ok naya, let’s just…let’s sit you down, ok?  hang on, i’m gonna get you some w—”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

You just saw his face for a second, you saw it open up and shut down all at once and you saw him go bright, bright, _bright_ blue, and you smiled, and you slumped forward, and—

 

You were lying down.  You were alone—oh, no wait, there he was, reappearing suddenly and trying not to spill anything, and still, the stars were just _everywhere_ , and they were on him, and his _eyes_ were like stars, too, and then—

 

You were sitting up, drinking water.  It felt good.  It felt like it was waking you up.  It was a little too cold.  The back of your throat ached from it.

 

“…pretty dim.”

 

You blinked.  You probably just heard the last bit of that sentence.  “Huh?” you croaked.

 

“your soul.  it’s, uh, it’s dim, babe.  it’s getting a little brighter, but…”

 

“Yeah, it…”  You rubbed your head.  “It did something?”

 

“no shit.”

 

The water was doing a lot of good.  You held it in your hand, ran your finger along a droplet, shook your head slowly and said, “I get it now.”

 

“i fucking don’t.”  The cogs in his mind were turning.  He was still watching your chest.  “you shouldn’t be able to—”

 

“No, no, not that.”  You waved your hand sluggishly.

 

“what’re you—”

 

“I’ve been really, _really_ scared, Sans.”

 

He fell still, eyes darting up from your chest.

 

“But I don’t think it’s really been about going back, i-it’s…it’s the _staying_ that scares me.”  You met his eyes, even and confident for the first time in a month.  “I haven’t thought about it either.  I don’t know what it’ll be like either, Sans, but…you’re right.  I just have to go.”

 

Now he was speechless.  When you started to droop again, and the glass loosened in your hand, you…you were down flat again.  Oh, wow, sleep sounded good right about now.  The exhaustion was crowding your mind.  But he’d heard you this time.  You could probably afford a nap, but…out of the corner of your eye you saw him swipe at his face.  His head was down and you heard him take the quietest breath.

 

“you’re feeling ok though?” he asked as your eyelids got heavy.  “i mean like…you don’t feel like you need to go to a _hospital_ , or…?”

 

“Mm…”  You shook your head a centimeter.  “I’m ok.”

 

“you’re good?”

 

“I’m good.”

 

“you’re going back with everyone?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“…you love me?”

 

Your eyes opened at his disbelieving whisper.  He was kneeling by the bed, starry and hopeful and beautiful, he was _beautiful_.  As heavy as your arm was, you reached out and cupped his skull.  Somehow, his eye sockets looked wet.  Was that possible?  Could he cry?  You wondered about it, and you looked at him, and you loved him, you loved him…

 

“I _love_ you.”  Weakly, you tried to pull him closer.  “I love you, Sans.”

 

He got the message you were trying to give.  He took your face, leaned forward, and kissed all the words into you, and it felt like an answer.  It felt like everything you hadn’t known and everything you’d feared was contained in that moment, and it wasn’t scary.  It was just new.

 

“i love you,” he whispered.  You could feel the relief down to his core.  You could feel it through his hands and through his teeth, and you could feel it in the wetness falling from his eyes.  You could feel it even as you slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [makin out](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_b0I4KVpFk)


	48. they do it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
>  
> 
> [oh reee-ee-eaderrsssss come out to pla-ee-aaay](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

He was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes.

 

Light was coming in from the window, falling on the sheet laid over you both.  He was facing you, eyes closed, jaw relaxed, and utterly still.  You could do nothing but stare for a few moments, at his face and his hand resting over yours on the mattress, before you started grinning.  You curled a bit closer, and just that motion was enough to make him wake up, too.  _Light sleeper,_ you thought fondly.

 

“…hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

You squeezed the hand over yours, and when his eyes flickered down, you could see the bits of worry that still clung to him.  He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at your chest.

 

“how’re you—”

 

“Perfect.”

 

He met your eyes again and let some of the concern melt.  Softly, he said, “just checking.”  A few more moments of silence, of just _looking_ , and then he chuckled, “what?”

 

“What what?”

 

“what’s so funny?”

 

Your grin turned into giggles, and soon, he had to follow suit.

 

“seriously, is there something on my face?  something in my teeth?”  The hand over yours tightened, and he leaned in while his smile turned mischievous.  “bad morning breath?”

 

“It’s nothing!” you laughed.  “I just…feel funny.”

 

He moved even closer, until you could feel his legs brushing against yours.  “funny?”

 

“Feels different.”  You kept smiling up at him, not really noticing when your hand reached up to brush sleepily against his cheekbones.  “Feels like I’m…”

 

“…dreaming?”

 

You sputtered out another round of laughter and corrected, “I was just gonna say _better,_ dork!”

 

“huh.  mine’s more romantic.”

 

“Nice way of saying _cheesier_.”

 

“you’re into it.”

 

“Maybe a little.”

 

You grinned at each other, and all you wanted was to pull him down and kiss him because, truthfully, you _did_ feel like you were dreaming, but then he glanced back down at your chest.  He still looked doubtful.

 

“Sans, I promise I’m ok.”

 

He sighed, nodded, fell back down on the bed and said, “i know.  sorry.  just…you scared me last night.”

 

“I know.”  You watched him rub his eyes as he groaned deep in his throat.  “Weird night.  Lots of…stuff.”

 

“yeah.”

 

You both laid still for a moment as the sleepiness wore off, and the aftermath of everything you’d said last night rolled through your mind.  None of it bad—the opposite, really—but it was still a whole lot to process.

 

“we’ve gotta talk to tori.”

 

“Yeah.  We gotta tell her—”

 

“—that you teleported.”

 

“—that I’m going back.”

 

You blinked at each other.  Sans said, “oh.”

 

“Oh.  Right, that.”

 

He gave you an odd look before chuckling, “uh…i think there’s a pretty clear priority here.”

 

“Well, but, I mean…”  You frowned.  “Do we _have_ to tell her about that today?”

 

He sat up again and stared at you.  “babe.  you literally knocked yourself out.”

 

“Yeah, which is _kind of a downer_ , don’t you think?”  You sat up too.  “Can’t we start with the good news?  Please?  For Christmas?”

 

He froze, wiped a hand over his face and groaned, “oh my god it’s christmas.”

 

You burst out laughing.  “You _forgot?_ ”

 

“oh my god we gotta go do christmas.”  He dropped back to his pillow, suddenly looking very tired as he rubbed his eye sockets.

 

“Hey Sans?”

 

“mm,” he mumbled from behind his hands.

 

“Merry Christmas.”

 

“merry christmas.”

 

“Hey Sans?”

 

You leaned over him, you hair sweeping over the side of his skull and making him uncover his eyes.  You grinned at the blue that immediately overtook him.

 

“I love you.”

 

Just like that, the exhaustion and worry were gone.  He was just glowing, wide-eyed, and still, until after a breath, he pulled you down to his lips.  He was almost reverent when he pulled away, staring at you with pupils that were a bit hazy, but when he saw your giddy, uncontained smile, he grinned back.

 

“love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Everyone was already gathered at Toriel’s apartment for presents and brunch, the former of which apparently taken care of, judging by the massacre of wrapping paper and boxes littering the floor.  Stepping in hand-in-hand with Sans, you were greeted first with smiles, and then with odd looks as the adults processed your I-slept-in-this outfit.

 

“Did you just come from next door?” Undyne snorted.

 

“A-a-are those the same clothes from y-yesterday…??”

 

“Yes, yes, and I have something to tell you guys.”

 

They all looked confused at your nearly manic grin.  Even Frisk and Papyrus glanced up from their presents to listen, and from just beside them, Flowey angled his petals toward you.

 

“I’m going to Ebott.  Also, I love you guys.  I love you guys so much.”

 

There wasn’t even a pause.  Instantly, everyone was standing, cheering, and practically attacking you with hugs.  Frisk was the first to fling themself at you, then Papyrus lifted you both off the ground with his embrace, then Undyne picked up all three of you, and Toriel’s wide arms were there to keep everyone from falling to the ground while Alphys and Sans grinned from the outskirts.  You couldn’t keep straight all the “We love you too!”’s. You just laughed, even as your breath was thoroughly wrung out of you, and felt so stupid for taking this long to get here.

 

“Oh my goodness, Naya, this is—!”

 

“I WAS SO SO SAD!  YOU COULDN’T TELL, OF COURSE, WHAT WITH MY PHENOMENAL ACTING SKILLS, BUT I WAS _DISTRAUGHT!_ ”

 

“About TIME you came to your senses, NERD!!”

 

“Psh.  It’s not that big a deal, dummies.”  Even Flowey’s sullen voice from outside the group hug just added to the warmth.

 

“I’m so sorry, I love you gu… _gurk…!_ ” you croaked as Papyrus’ arms dug painfully into your sides.

 

“woah, alright, don’t make her bust a gut over this,” Sans cut in, barely masking his concern.  You were pretty sure he’d be fussing over you all day.  You were pretty sure you didn’t mind.

 

Everyone calmed down enough to sweep you toward the table, and as soon as the smell of cinnamon buns and scrambled eggs hit you, you realized you were starving.  You filled a plate while the conversation rambled on around you.

 

“Man, you’ve got a LOT of two-weeks to turn in, huh?”

 

“YOU’LL HAVE TO FIND MORE JOBS WHEN WE GET THERE!  I’M SURE WE COULD FIND TWO OR THREE FOR YOU, OR EVEN MORE!  EIGHT JOBS!!”

 

“W-where do you think you’re gonna live?”

 

“Dunno,” you said through a mouthful of sugar-bacon.  “Haven’t thought that far.”

 

Undyne gave a sly grin and nudged Sans.  “I’m sure BONE-BREATH over here could make room for you.”

 

You and Sans glanced at each other.  _That_ was a conversation you definitely hadn’t had.

 

“Well, of _course_ she will live with us.”

 

You all looked to the head of the table at Toriel, who had spoken just before taking a casual sip of coffee.  She tensed at your surprised expression, and quickly added, “Oh.  Oh, I meant, ah, if that is—”

 

Frisk threw their arms around you and nodded so fast you worried they’d hurt their neck.  From the living room, you heard Flowey whine, “She’ll _what?!_ ”

 

“I did not mean to impose, my friend, I only thought…if you needed some time to get settled, then—”

 

“Wait, seriously?”  You were patting Frisk’s head distractedly and gaping at Toriel.  “That’s…that’s cool?  Are you sure?”

 

She brightened and chirped, “Oh, of course!  We have an extra bedroom, it is yours as long as you need it!”

 

Frisk pulled away and just signed, **Forever.**

 

You gave Sans a thumbs up, he gave it back, and you thought, _Wow.  Everything really is gonna be ok._

 

In stark contrast to the day before, which had seemed to drag on and on through your depressed haze, today was already going by too quickly.  Before you knew it, brunch was being cleaned up and everyone was putting on winter gear.  You were the only one who wasn’t prepared.

 

“We’re going somewhere?” you asked.

 

“SLEDDING!” Papyrus said, with Frisk signing it simultaneously.

 

You blinked, then looked out the window to realize that, in true Christmas morning fashion, the first snow had fallen.  You hadn’t even noticed in your happy rush.  “I don’t have shoes,” you murmured.  Last night, you’d run after Sans with nothing but socks, jeans and a t-shirt.

 

“Frisk, do you not have an extra coat?”  Toriel eyed you with concern.  “And perhaps boots?  And snow-pants?  And a hat, and gloves, and…oh, hold on, let me go look.”

 

Once you were suited up, you went to the cars, drove to the park, and still, the day was moving too fast.  Because now, you weren’t trying to stay out of the conversation; you were throwing yourself into the middle of it.  You weren’t trying to make yourself unnoticeable; you were laughing as loudly as you wanted.  You weren’t holding Sans’ hand under anything, or out of sight of anyone; you had your arm around his shoulder and your leg slung over his lap because you were all too big to fit in these cars built for humans.

 

Any other day, the cold wetness of snow would bother you, but today, it was magical.  It was Christmas, and you were with the people you loved, and you were running through the drifts alongside Frisk and Papyrus to be the first one down the hill.  You all piled on a sled and sped down with your hands in the air, and with your hair already tangled and frosty, you raced them right back to the top.

 

“JEEZ, guys, let us unload the other ones!” Undyne griped as she yanked two more sleds from her jeep.

 

Flowey had stayed behind with Toriel, looking as grumpy as ever in his cap and scarf, and when Frisk started to grab for him and gesture to the hill, he snapped, “Woah, what’re you, _crazy?!_ There’s no way I’m—”  But Frisk was already strapping his backpack to their chest and running back for the sled, Flowey screaming all the way.

 

“wow.”  Sans looked at your flushed grin, his own cheeks going a bit blue as he said, “thought you didn’t like the cold.”

 

“I don’t!” you chirped.  “Wanna ride one with me?”

 

And he did.  And he did again.  And then you rode with Undyne, and then Frisk, and then Papyrus and then Sans again, and then everyone stuffed dangerously onto one sled, and then you scooted carefully down the hill with Flowey and then even Alphys and then Toriel and then you all raced, and you weren’t cold at all, you were warm, you didn’t need the hat or the scarf, and you didn’t stop grinning for a second, not for one second, you just grinned and grinned and grinned and…

 

You couldn’t believe it when the sun started to set.  You weren’t tired at all, even as your friends stayed resting at the top of the hill.  You felt like you could go all night.  You felt like you’d be grinning forever.

 

“Just one more, Frisk!” Toriel called as she, Alphys and Undyne started heading back to the cars.

 

You, Sans and Papyrus sat at the bottom of the hill and watched as Frisk took a slightly less miserable Flowey down for a final ride.  You were leaning against Sans and only now realizing that even if your mind was energetic, your body was tiring.

 

“you winding down?” Sans chuckled.

 

“No way man,” you mumbled.  “Let’s go again.  Let’s freakin’…”  Your words trailed off into a yawn.  “Let’s do it.”

 

“YOUR EYES ARE CLOSED.”

 

“Nuh-uh,” you insisted without opening them.

 

Frisk was struggling to drag the sled back up the hill while also keeping Flowey steady, so Papyrus rose to help.  Sans pulled you closer against him, rubbing lazy circles in your back and asking, “need help getting to the car?”

 

“Don’t wanna go.”

 

“no?”

 

You nuzzled closer, looking up to watch Frisk and Papyrus march toward his red convertible.  “Mm.  Not yet.”

 

He smiled at you for a moment, then called, “hey guys, we’ll catch up later.”

 

“OoOOOooh!” Undyne crooned.  “Does SANAYA need some ALONE time??”

 

You simply replied with a thumbs-up, to which everyone laughed.

 

“BUT YOU’RE GOING TO MISS CHRISTMAS HOT COCOA!”

 

“Do not worry, dears,” Toriel called while returning the thumbs-up.  “I will be sure to save you a mug!”

 

And just like that, the two of you were alone.  The sun had set completely now, and with snow covering the park and clouds covering the sky, everything was insulated.  Everything was still.  You were _alone._

 

“you went kinda crazy today.”

 

“Good crazy?  Or ‘is she ok’ crazy.”

 

“the good stuff.”

 

You sat up so you could smile at him.  “I was having fun.  I’m happy.”

 

The blue on his cheeks was the only bit of color in the whiteness.  He chuckled, “me too.”

 

With a sleepy sigh, you flopped back on the snow, still feeling flushed and warm enough not to mind it.  You patted the ground beside you, and he followed suit.

 

“It really feels like…there was a cork in me.  Or like, a clot or something.  And now it’s gone and things are just…”

 

“better?”

 

“Much better.”

 

He reached over and took your gloved hand, and for several breaths, you both stared up at the blank sky.  You both watched your breath cloud up and twist away.

 

“I’ve never had this, Sans.”

 

He turned his head toward you.

 

“People like this.  People who’re just…good.  Like it’s…it’s monsters in general, I think.  Humans just…bring a lot of suckiness to the table.”

 

“hey, watch it,” he teased gently, “that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”

 

You raised a brow and said, “Okay, sure, but…as a whole, you gotta admit we’re kinda shitty in comparison.”

 

He actually seemed to think about it for a moment.  You saw his eye sockets narrow, and his voice was pensive as he said, “well…i used to think so, too.”

 

“Used to?”

 

His hand tightened in yours.  “mm.  back when…uh.  y’know.  back in the day.  i wasn’t too sold on the species.  i didn’t have much to go on.  just the old stories, and my, uh…my anger.  but then there was frisk, and i got up here and just…i dunno.  a lot of things surprised me.”

 

You couldn’t take your eyes off him and the thoughtful look in his eyes, so much so that you didn’t notice the snow start to fall around you.  “What things?”

 

“things like…how funny you are.”

 

You snorted.

 

“i’m serious,” he chuckled back, “you all try so hard to be funny.  it’s _important_ to you, and you _are_ funny, like…it’s such a priority up here.  it wasn’t really like that underground.  so much of what you make is made to be funny, and that’s another thing…”  He was starting to use his free hand to gesture, and his eyes were lighting up both in enthusiasm and confusion.  “…everyone wants to _make_ things up here.  you make so, _so_ much, more books than anyone could read, more shows than anyone could watch, it’s _insane_.  and you’re always looking for things that are new, and when you find those things, you want to _see_ them, and _touch_ them.  like…humans looked up and saw all these stars, and they saw the moon, and you all wanted to _get to them_.  that’s…that’s just…”

 

You watched him trail off.  You gave him a moment, and then you whispered, “Monsters are amazing, too.”

 

He stayed still, looking up at the snowflakes.

 

“You’re just kind.  Even when other people aren’t, you are.  Even…even after everything we’ve done.”

 

“you’re kind, too.”

 

“And magic?  Like, come one.  You guys have _magic_ , you do literal magic, and even though you’ve got all that…that _power_ , you use it for shit like…baking.  And teaching.  You don’t try and use it against people.  You’re just… _good_.  You’re so, so good, and it’s…”

 

“we’re not… _perfect,_ naya.”

 

“Neither am I.”

 

“no.”

 

He pulled your hand toward him and set it on his chest.  He looked at you, and his eyes were wide and wondering, and you could feel your heartbeat in your throat and behind your ribs because you could see exactly how he felt.  There was no room for doubt, no need to guess.  From his eyes and his smile and the surface of his bones, he loved you.

 

“you’re human,” he whispered.  “you’re amazing.”

 

With a breath, you were on him.  You braced your arms on either side and pushed his skull back into the snow with your kiss.  He clutched at the side of your face, his hands so warm even as the air was so cold.  In fact, _everything_ was warm, and you were getting lightheaded.  Feverish.

 

Now your legs were holding him down too, and his hands were travelling, moving low and grasping at anything they could.  With your thick winter clothes, all the feelings were muffled and you were far too hot.  They were in the way.  You wanted to well and truly feel his hands, and him, you wanted to feel _him_ , you wanted…you wanted…

 

You pulled away and stared down at him, your hair falling around his skull.  His expression was like a mirror, flushed and _frustrated_.  The snow was still falling.  The world was soft and silent and glowing with winter, so quiet you were sure he could hear the blood coursing through you.

 

“Sans,” you breathed.

 

He closed his eyes and shuddered, like just the sound of you was too much.

 

“Do you…can we…”  You blushed and faltered, because no amount of heat could give you the confidence for this.  “Do you wanna…”  You jerked your head pointedly to one side.  “…y’know.”

 

A smile broke through the blue.  “…get outta here?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He pulled you back to his lips.  You felt a lurch in your stomach, like the first drop of a roller coaster, and suddenly the snow beneath him turned into sheets, and the air was warm, and you had to pull away to gasp from the sensation.

 

You were in your bedroom.  His face snapped into apology and he hissed, “sorry, sorry, got, uh…h-heh, got a little too eager there.  shoulda warned—”

 

You fell back into him and turned his words into groans.  God, if you weren’t excited enough before, you were now.

 

“w-wait,” he laughed hoarsely, pushing you back and sitting up.  “our clothes.  snow.  wet.”

 

“Oh shit, you’re right, gotta…”  You both hastily started pulling off your coats and boots, laughing at the awkwardness of your struggles until you bit out a, “Fuck it,” and rolled off the bed to make it easier.

 

He watched you unromantically wrestle out of your shirt.  You snorted at the way his eyes widened.

 

“You like that?” you laughed, arms tangled in the sleeves.

 

He reached out, breathed, “ _yeah_ ,” and kneeled on the edge of the bed as he resumed your kiss.  His hand deftly ripped your shirt off the rest of the way before finding your waist.  The fever returned to you.  Still standing, you pressed your chest against his, felt that bite of dissatisfaction to feel fabric instead of bone, and grabbed the hem of his shirt.  He rose his arms in agreement, and then…oh, that was _better_ , there was that electricity, that hum resonating from his ribs to yours.

 

He took your bra clasp.  “can i—”

 

“ _Yes_.”  And then that was gone, too.  He adjusted until your hips rested between his knees, but that wasn’t enough.  Standing wasn’t enough.  You pushed him back, crawled over him as he moved with you until you were on all fours over him, still kissing him, still gasping.

 

“n-naya,” he whispered against you.  “naya, hold on.”

 

You slowed, kept your forehead against him and met his eyes.  “Yeah?” you breathed.

 

“i love you.”  He looked at you so seriously.  He held your face so firmly.  “if we’re gonna…i want you to hear that i—”

 

“Me too.  I love you too, and—”

 

Neither of you had the patience to finish before your mouths found each other.  Your hands moved over him, urgent and hungry, finding the spaces between ribs and drawing out moans.  His fingers dug into your hips almost enough to hurt.  When you moved down to trail kisses over his sternum, your hair brushed through his body and made him curl up into you, his voice turning more and more desperate.

 

You wanted to make him feel every way you loved him.  You wanted to see every part of him, you wanted to _touch_ every part of him.  One hand left his ribs, and you brushed the bits of pelvis sticking up from his waistband until you found the tight fabric over his arousal.  He choked.  His eyes snapped down to your hand.

 

Just as he had so many times before, you asked, “Is this ok?”

 

He nodded, words failing him.  His hollow nature made it easy to gently, slowly reach under his pants, and…

 

“Woah.”

 

The blank surprise in your voice broke him out of it for just a moment.  He snorted, “what?”

 

It felt like the rest of his body—his tongue and lips—but much, much firmer.  There was no lack of substance, and the buzz of magic you were used to was stronger than you’d ever felt it.

 

“It’s…hard.”

 

He started to laugh, but when you slowly wrapped your fingers around the base of it, he stopped.  He let out a shaky sigh.  You took your hand away just long enough to pull questioningly at his pants, to which he reached down and helped take them off, and then you looked at him.

 

You usually couldn’t see his body unless he made it visible, but you could see this.  It didn’t look quite like a solid thing, but through the shape and the outline, blue webs of light pulsed and shimmered across it.  It wasn’t all there all at once, almost like a hologram. 

 

If you were being honest, you’d been nervous about this, but looking at it now, at the color and the glow, you could see that it was just…him.

 

You stroked him.  He groaned, deep and needy; you used his voice to guide you as you moved your hand experimentally over him.  You focused on the places where he was the loudest.  Your hand started to feel numb from the electricity, and soon, you felt comfortable.  Your eyes looked from his closed eyes to his open mouth to the glow in your hand.  He trusted you enough for this.  He _loved_ you enough for this.

 

You circled your fingers at the base and slowly started to pump.  He curled his spine until he was sitting up, like he was a sprung coil, like he could hardly take it.  He dug his face into your shoulder and choked with every quickening motion, and he clutched at your back, he bit at your neck, his ribs heaved as you went faster and faster, and in the end, it didn’t take him long.  He let out what was nearly a sob.  His voice shot straight to your groin as he hissed, “fuck fuck, _naya…!_ ”

 

You almost felt curious at the bright blue liquid that you worked out of him.  It covered your hand, yet it didn’t feel like anything at all, it might as well have been air, but you didn’t have time to wonder about it.  Sans didn’t even give himself a second to recover before he dragged your face down toward his, covering you with ragged kisses that were all teeth and moans.

 

It was your turn.

 

He pulled you into his lap, every motion rough and heady, and held your hips against his barely-fading erection as he tried to sample every inch of you.  You could barely think at the feeling of his tongue, long and inhuman, dragging over your shoulders and throat and breasts.  You could barely hear through your own whimpering.  He was almost clumsy, figuring out how to position you and where to go to give him the best access.  He slid out from under you; you leaned back on your elbows.  He squeezed down your thighs; you parted your legs.  He was breathless, he was shaking, and you were even worse off.  For a moment, just a tense, tantalizing moment, he stopped.  He held his teeth by your ear, and you could feel his breath and hear him shudder, and your mouth parted in a silent cry when he slid his hand between your legs, over your underwear, over that last barrier between you.

 

“ _i want to taste you,_ ” he breathed.

 

Oh, god.  That was it.  Your mind gave way to your body entirely, and your hips offered a roll of agreement.  He started to move down, his ministrations changing from hasty to languid, his hands caressing you hard and slow and shit, shit, _shit_ the slowness, the teasing as he nibbled at your hipbone, squeezed your breast, just _breathed_ on your groin and let that heat add to the fire that was already building, it was too much, it wasn’t enough, and…

 

He pulled away the garment and you were already soaked, you were already halfway there, but he gave himself a moment.  He studied you, as you had with him.  He drank you in for one breath, two breaths, then he looked up at you with eyes that were so disbelieving, and so in awe, and so in _love_ , and no one had _ever_ looked at you like that, and you loved him so much, you loved him more than you could stand.

 

His tongue ran carefully over the length of you.  You were suddenly relieved that he’d chosen your bed instead of his when he’d dropped you through space, because the sound you made was not in any way subtle.  You grasped as much of the sheets as you could and twisted up in to him, and still, just his breath against you was _agonizing_.  He didn’t tease you any longer.  He opened his mouth as wide as someone without any cheeks to get in the way could, and circled his tongue over every surface until you were gasping for air.

 

You stared down at him through hooded eyes.  You hadn’t seen his tongue before, but now it was like his erection had been, pulsing with light and almost solid.  He looked more like a monster than he ever had—tongue too long, jaws opened too wide—and yet you’d never felt so aroused.

 

Hesitantly, you put a hand on the back of his skull.  You pushed down, just slightly, and it made his pupils dart up to you and your unraveled expression.  His pupils were dilated.  He looked hungry and tender all at once.  Again, you bit your lip and pushed him even closer to you.  You pleaded, “ _Deeper._ ”

 

He complied.  Oh, god, he gave you exactly what you wanted.  Your eyes rolled back and your head crashed down to the mattress as he dipped his tongue inside you, out again, up to your clit, down to your entrance, over and over and over and harder and harder and harder, and all the while the static of his magic coursed over you, and into you, and fuck, _fuck_ , it usually took you longer than this, but the end was rushing at you like a wave, and all you could do was close your eyes, arch your back, open your mouth and give in to it.

 

Your whole body convulsed in orgasm, and it lasted, and lasted, and he clutched you as close as he could to carry you through it.  Your voice was laced with cries and curses and his name.

 

You collapsed and just…panted.  Slowly, he crawled up next to you, staring down at you with a smile that made you even weaker.  You reached out and stroked his jaw.  You pulled him down.  You kissed him, and held his forehead against yours, and felt the trembling through both of your bodies, and slowly, you came down.  He stroked your hair and watched you.  He matched your breath, quiet and patient, until you were smiling back up at him.

 

“was that ok?” he asked softly, and the fact that it was even in question drew out a breathless laugh from you.

 

“Not even…not just _okay_ , Sans, you’re…”  You ran a hand through your hair, your smile turning giddy.  “You’re…that was…holy shit, um…”

 

He laughed, too, and wrapped you up in his arms and hugged you and _exuded_ happiness.  “i love you,” he said, like they were the only words that mattered right now.

 

“I love you,” you murmured against him.  “God, I love you Sans.  I love you.”

 

You kissed him through the exhaustion, through the trembling, a kiss that was light and slow and salty with sweat.  You both just held each other there.  You just tasted him.  You were just with him, and you were just…

 

Happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't in good consciousness write the words "ghost dick" in this chapter but you get the picture


	49. Very Serious Pillow Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real short chap this time, nbd
> 
> [come, sing, my angels of MUSIC](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

“Ghost dick.”

 

“ _pfft._   um, excuse me?”

 

You were stretched out together on the bed, sheets cast away in favor of body heat.  Your hair was spilled out around your head, tangled and mussed, while Sans was spilled out over your lower half.  He had his skull rested on your torso, his legs wrapped with yours, and his hand lazily tracing the divots in your skin.  Neither of you had been able to sleep.  Neither of you had wanted to.  Outside the window, the snow was falling heavily and giving everything inside a muted glow.

 

“That’s it.  That’s what it’s like.  Finally came to me.”

 

Sans laughed and buried his head in your stomach.

 

Grinning up at the ceiling, you giggled, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  Wow.  I should be…like…sweeter about this.”

 

He took a moment to recover, becoming suspiciously quiet for a few seconds before snickering, “oh no.”

 

“What.”

 

“nope.  you’re right.  we gotta be sweeter.”

 

“ _What._ ”

 

He had to cover his mouth as the mirth started anew.  “oh _no._ ”

 

“Sans, c’mon, now you _have_ to say it.”

 

“meat puss.”

 

You convulsed with a snort, then both of you were laughing so hard that you were sure if your neighbors hadn’t been disturbed by the shameless sex-noises, this would do the trick.

 

“ _Oh no!_ ” you repeated.

 

“i told you.”

 

“Oh my god dude,” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes.  “That’s _awful_.”

 

“so bad.”

 

“The worst.”

 

“…flesh junk.”

 

You almost rolled off the bed, you were losing it so hard.  “Holy shit, _stop_ ,” you managed to gasp.

 

“ok, ok, no more,” he laughed.

 

You covered your eyes and took deep breaths until you were sure you wouldn’t wet the bed right there.  Still grinning, you peeked through your fingers down at him.  He was back to running his fingers curiously over your ribs and stomach, though you could still see the humor in his expression.

 

“But like…is that weird for you?”

 

“what.”

 

“Y’know.  Uh…skin sex.”

 

“ _snrk_.  well, ok, first off, ‘skin sex’ is definitely a serial killer thing—”

 

“Fuck dude I’m serious don’t start me up again—”

 

“—and secondly.”  He smiled up at you, one half tender and the other teasing.  “no way.”

 

You lowered your hands to just cover your mouth.  “You sure?”

 

“definitely.”

 

“Oh.  Well…cool then.”

 

He was quiet for a moment, tracing circles around your bellybutton, then he asked, “how about you?”

 

“Hm?”

 

His voice was just a bit hesitant.  “my, uh…my whole situation.  heh.  is that, uh, too weird?”

 

“Nope.”

 

He just stared back for a moment, as if he didn’t believe you.

 

“I mean…ok, sure, it’s a _first_ , but like…”  Thinking back on the way he’d looked, heated and blue and hungry, immediately made you blush.  “Um, h-ha, uh…weird’s not the right word at all.  It’s just…it’s just _you_.  So I’m into it.”

 

He brightened and looked relieved.  “you are?”

 

“Hell yeah.”  You dropped your hands, reaching out with one to rest on his cheek.  He leaned into you readily.  “Plus, it’s like…I love you.  So as long as it’s you, it’s not gonna…I dunno.  Scare me off, or anything.”

 

You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the disbelieving joy on his face that appeared every time you said you loved him.  “i love you, too.”

 

“I love you.”  It was so easy to get caught up in a cycle of saying it, but right now, you felt a little too silly.  Your grin went from soft to mischievous and you snorted, “And I love the ghost dick.”

 

You both cracked up again.  Completely naked and still just a bit too warm, you laughed, and there was an old part of your mind that told you this was inappropriate, but it just…wasn’t.  It was natural.  With him, there was no wrong time to laugh.  It didn’t disrupt the mood, it enhanced it, and that was a comfort you were still very new to.

 

“Wow,” you giggled once you’d caught your breath.  “I never used to be like this after.”

 

“like what?”

 

“All goofy and shit.”  You were lying back again, looking upward and smiling.

 

You felt him tilt his head.  “why not?”

 

“I dunno.”  You shrugged.  “I always tried to be, like…romantic.  I guess.  I’m sure there were a couple times where I tried to lighten it up, but she didn’t…”  You trailed off.  You’d slipped into that topic too easily.

 

He fell still.  He waited.

 

“She didn’t, um…”  Somehow, saying the words wasn’t bringing you back.  You were still here.  You were only talking, and talking was okay.  “She didn’t think I took it seriously enough.  She wanted me to be more ‘mature.’”

 

Sans snorted.  He grumbled, “the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Slowly, you nodded.  “Yeah.  _Yeah_ , right?”  You knotted your brow as your tone turned indignant.  “What kinda vague bullshit was that?”

 

You felt him turn his head toward you.  “it _is_ bullshit.”

 

“It’s bullshit.”  Had you ever said that of her?  Because it felt good to admit.  “Complete bullshit.”

 

Silently, he clutched your hand.  You both stayed that way for a breath, before he murmured, almost darkly, “she didn’t know what she had.”

 

You clutched him back.

 

 “…are you worried?”

 

You ran your thumb over the back of his hand.  “About her?”

 

“mm.”

 

“Well…I’m not planning on like…reaching out,” you said with a frown.  “I don’t want to see her.”

 

“no,” he growled firmly.

 

“Plus, I’m not going alone.” 

 

He pulled your hand to his teeth; you felt lips press against your knuckles.

 

You gave a grateful smile.  “I’m not as anxious as I thought I’d be.  Not about her.”  You gave a heavy pause as something occurred to you.  “…Aw man.  But there’s also gonna be all my old friends.  My _parents_.  Oh jeez…”

 

“…we’ll be with you.”

 

“I know.”  You took a breath.  You groaned, “I can’t think about it yet.  I’m too doped up on pheromones right now.”

 

He snorted, nuzzling against you.  “we’ve got a week to worry about it.”

 

“Yeah.  Can we go back to talking about our genitals?”

 

His snort bubbled into laughter, and that was enough to calm your worries for now.

 

Everything about this felt good.  Being with him.  Venting about her.  Laughing.  You closed your eyes and listened to him breathe.  You felt his ribs expend and deflate next to you.  You sighed and melted back into the mattress as he ran his fingertips over your breasts, sides, and hips, and you felt so, so lucky.

 

“Hey, Sans?”

 

“mm?”

 

“When did you know?”

 

He looked up at you; you looked down at him.

 

“That you loved me?”

 

His pupils stayed locked with yours, bright and intent, and his hand fell still on your sternum.  His cheeks were just starting to blue as he said, “i’ve, uh…i’ve known for a while.  heh.  i was just waiting on your lead.”

 

You were blushing too.  You pressed, “But like… _what_ made you know?”

 

He turned so that his chin was resting on your stomach.  He wrapped his arms around you, putting his hands under your shoulder blades.  He sighed gently.  “you won’t think i’m a creep?”

 

You smiled.  “’Course not.”

 

“remember back in october, when we played lazer tag?  and we didn’t talk for a little bit after?”

 

“Oh.  Yeah?”  You winced slightly.

 

“it was the day we made up.  paps dragged you in the house, even though i could tell you were still feeling off.  we said sorry.”  His eyes were distant and soft, remembering it.  “you fell asleep on the couch.  i’d _liked_ you before that, but that was when i thought…oh shit.”

 

You whispered, “Why?”

 

One of his hands found your cheek.  He ran it back through your hair as he murmured, “i’d never seen you like that.  asleep and just…vulnerable.  i was kinda nervous, but you weren’t.  you were just tired, and comfortable, and i looked at you and i…knew.”

 

“…That early, huh?”

 

“told ya.”

 

You were just watching him, heart pounding and soul swelling, so his follow up caught you off guard.

 

“what about you?”

 

You blinked.  “Me?”

 

His voice was low and his blush was bright.  “when’d you know?”

 

It came to your mind immediately, but the answer was embarrassing.  It couldn’t be true, even as your brain insisted, _You know when.  Of **course** you know._   You covered your eyes and let out a nervous laugh.  “Uh…hoo boy.”

 

Slowly, he pulled himself up, bracing himself over you with one hand while still stroking your hair with the other.  “what?”

 

You shook your head quickly.  “It’s…oh man…you’ll think _I’m_ the creep.”

 

“i won’t.”

 

“You might, though.”  You forced yourself to look up at him.  He was watching you a bit too intently.  You felt your chest tighten, and you had to swallow before admitting, “Um…the whole time?”

 

His eyes started to widen, and you forged on before he could say anything.

 

“Since that first night, which is just…it’s crazy.  It’s totally crazy, I know, and I’m not saying, like…obviously it wasn’t the same as _now_ , and I’m not trying to sell any of that love-at-first-sight stuff, or…ok, maybe it was that a _little_ bit, but—”

 

“that long?”  His voice was quiet.  He was blushing.  “really?”

 

You stared at him and relented to the realization that…  “…Yeah.  That long.  But like…how do I explain it?  It’s just…you were…you were there for me right away.  Even though you didn’t know me.”  You were taking on the same nostalgic look he had as you revisited that night.  “You didn’t think I was dumb for being scared.  You just took my side.  You _didn’t know me_ , and you still sat with me, and told me some stupid jokes.

 

“I started feeling something that night, and…and it’s the same feeling now.  It’s just been changing, and growing, and building on itself, but…I loved you that night.  I loved you right away, because you…you _saved_ me, Sans.”

 

He didn’t say anything at first.  He just stared back as you searched his eyes, until you chuckled anxiously and glanced away.

 

“S-so…h-ha.  Yeah, um.  Super weird.  Sorry it took me so lon—”

 

He held the back of your head and pulled you up to his mouth and kissed you so passionately, you felt your soul give a needful slam against your ribs.  Your mind lost everything except amazement at how quickly you could go from afterglow to wanting more with just a kiss.

 

You wouldn’t be getting much sleep anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternate nicknames: Big Blue and Mr. Vagoo
> 
> next chap's gonna wrap up part one, aww shiiiiiittt


	50. Sisterhood of the Traveling Cats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god you don't know how close we came to ending on chapter FORTY NINE instead of FIFTY. i would have pulled out my own anus.
> 
> [come play with us](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

Despite no longer needing a farewell party, Undyne was still determined to throw one.

 

The night before she, Alphys and Papyrus were slated to drive back to Ebott, she demanded that everyone at _least_ go out to dinner.  The three of them would be the first to leave.  Papyrus wanted to make it back in time to enroll in college classes (with Alphys’ help), and Undyne was just eager to get the car-sickness-inducing journey over with.

 

You hadn’t expected to feel sentimental about leaving the city, but it was definitely sentiment that led you to suggest you all eat at _Tony’s_ , the pizza place you and Sans had gone to on your first date.

 

When you arrived, the bouncer and the gruff waitress, Rhonda, recognized you right away.  They seemed delighted that you’d brought along the rest of your monster family, and even made a special exception to let Frisk in, too (“As long as I don’t see anyone slippin’ ‘em a sip.”).  The atmosphere, pizza and patrons were just as good as you remembered.

 

“How am I JUST NOW learning about this place?!” Undyne demanded, an anchovy-laden slice in her hand.  “You guys were holding out on me!  Rhonda is, like, the COOLEST human ever.”

 

“’Ppreciate that, hon!” Rhonda called from across the room, still looking as sour as ever.  Undyne responded with a thumbs-up.

 

“I THOUGHT FOR SURE THIS WOULD BE FULL OF ROWDY RASCALS,” Papyrus beamed, “BUT EVERYONE’S SO NICE!”

 

Toriel was watching Frisk have a signed conversation with one of the biker-looking diners, a smile on her snout.  “It is certainly a kind place.  How fitting for a farewell celebration!”

 

“W-well, not really ‘farewell’ anymore, i-is it?”  Alphys looked a fraction less comfortable than everyone else, but Undyne’s protective arm hadn’t left her shoulders all night.  “We’re _all_ heading out.”

 

“still gotta say goodbye to the city.”

 

“Yeah.”  You were leaning against Sans in the same seats you’d sat in on your first date.  “This is for the city.”

 

You’d moved so much.  You’d lived in so many different towns.  Never had you felt sad to leave a place, but now, as the week after Christmas passed and the moving boxes filled your apartment, you were feeling it.

 

Sans noticed your wistful expressions as everyone turned back to the pizza and chatter.  He smiled down at you, asking, “everything ok?”

 

You nodded and returned the smile.  “Totally ok.  Just…lots of memories here, y’know?”

 

His pupils flickered away to glance at the wall of photos.  You followed his gaze, and found the picture of the two of you.

 

“well,” he said, “nice to know that’ll still be there once we’re gone.”

 

Your smile widened and your chest swelled.  It felt bittersweet.  “Think we should leave another one?”

 

He squeezed you closer to his side and chuckled, “definitely.”

 

At the end of your meal, everyone gathered by the wall of photos, and Rhonda and Tony came out of the kitchen to join you.  Everyone got a hug, a handshake, and well-wishes on the way back to Ebott.  Some of the patrons even wanted to join in on the group picture.  You all smiled, the polaroid flashed, a few final embraces were exchanged.  Toriel took her copy of the picture, tearfully promising that it would go on her wall with all the others, and then you left.

 

Sans was the only one to see you wiping at your eyes as you all walked out to the street.

 

“aw, babe,” he murmured, slipping an arm around your waist.

 

“I’m fine, I’m cool,” you assured with a little laugh.  “Just…just don’t remember Ebott having pizza that good.”

 

* * *

 

 

Your last day at the elementary school passed without much fanfare.

 

It was almost surreal.  You just went about your work like always, you waved at the kids in the hall like always, and when lunch rolled around, you went out to eat at the bench by the playground.  Like always.

 

You didn’t feel much like unwrapping your bagged lunch.  You just sat and watched the students squealing and running around the field.  You spotted Frisk doling out hugs to a throng of their friends—you caught their eye, and returned the ever-happy smile they wore through the goodbyes.

 

“It is like this everywhere they go.”

 

You didn’t look away as Toriel took her spot next to you.  She didn’t seem to feel like eating, either.

 

“That must be kinda hard.”

 

“I imagine it is at times,” she agreed, “but you humans have remarkable ways of keeping in touch, no matter the distance.”

 

“Guess that’s true.”

 

You sat in silence for a moment.  Frisk still wasn’t even halfway through their farewells—it seemed everyone at the school wanted to see them off.

 

“I cannot tell you how happy I am to have you with us, Anaya.”

 

You finally looked at her.  She was watching you with soft red eyes.

 

“It’s gonna be a whole lot easier to do magic lessons, huh?”

 

“Well, yes.  And that is definitely a pressing issue.”  Her face became concerned for a breath—you and Sans had since told her about your teleportation episode, to her immense worry—but she shook it off to give you another warm look.  “But I would have missed you dearly, my friend.”

 

“Aw, man…I would’ve missed you too, Tori.”

 

In a rare flash of insecurity, she reached up to tug at one of her ears, averting her eyes and admitting, “You know, I…I do not make friends terribly easily.  Not in the way that Papyrus or Sans or Frisk charm everyone they meet.  There are only my close friends, and my students.  I seem to become a mother to most.  Which is not at all bad, of course!  But to find people like _you_ , who, ah…are…are good to _talk_ to, not just to teach, it is…it is, ah…”

 

You’d been watching her blankly all this time, until you interrupted, “Tori.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You’re like…my best friend.”

 

Her face lit up with youthful surprise.  Still clutching an ear in one hand, she put the other on your knee and said, “You…you are my best friend, too!  Oh, oh I felt a little silly to think I needed to admit it, but—”

 

You fell forward to hug her.  Your arms didn’t even reach all the way around her.  She held you back, and you thought about how this was where you first met, and there was that _stupid sentimentality_ again and you murmured, “I love you, dude.”

 

“And I love you, too.”  She squeezed you close until all you could smell was butterscotch and cinnamon.  “Dude.”

 

* * *

 

 

“And let’s give Sans a big round of applause for his last performance!  Or a kindly-thrown tomato works too!”

 

You clapped along with everyone else as Sans gave a little salute and walked off stage.  The audience was filled with regulars, and all of them were sad to see him go.  He was stopped at every step on his way over to you, getting hugs and handshakes and finger-guns from his fans.  You, too, were receiving affection from your co-workers right up until the end of your shift.

 

“Can’t believe this is my last night,” you murmured to Sans as the night wound down.  You were wiping down the bar as he finished off a bottle of ketchup.

 

“not the worst place to never see again.”

 

You frowned at him.  Ever since the incident with Cody, any affection he’d had for the comedy club had nearly evaporated.

 

“Hey now.  I liked this job.”

 

He raised a brow.  “still?”

 

You thought about it.  You looked at the empty stage and thought of the absolute shock you’d felt to see him on it, back when you still didn’t truly know him.  “Yeah,” you said.  “Still.”

 

You left hand in hand, to waves and whistles from any employees that remained to close up.  You went out the door, up the stairs, and to the sidewalk outside Frank’s convenience store.

 

Sans snorted.

 

“What?”

 

He shook his head.  “just remembering you running after that bus.”

 

You grinned and gave him a little push.  “See?  Plenty of good memories.”

 

“Hey.”

 

You both turned to see Frank himself peering out of his shop, wrinkly face pulled into a scowl.  You felt a fresh wave of nostalgia to see him, greeting, “Aw, man, hey Frank.  I’m actually—”

 

“Been hearin’ talk,” he interrupted.  “This damn comedian takin’ you away?”

 

You and Sans glanced at each other, and you stammered, “W-well, uh—”

 

“You think he’s funny, do ya?”

 

You shrunk a bit.  “Y-yes?”

 

“Whats-yer-name.  Skeleton.”

 

“uh.  yeah?”

 

“You care ‘bout this girl?”

 

He suddenly looked resolute.  “yes.”

 

His scowl deepened.  He raised a gnarled finger and pointed at you, bearing down on Sans with a hard stare.  “Then don’t you _ever_ quit bein’ funny, y’hear?  Keepin’ her smilin’ is yer _job_ now.”  He stepped aside and held the door.  “Now come in here and getcha some coffee before you go.”

 

You spent a breath looking surprised, then you walked forward to give the old man a hug.  He seemed more than ready for it.

 

“Aw, Fraaank…” you sniffled.

 

He patted your back before pulling away.  He didn’t look any less grumpy.  “Yer a good one, Naya.  And I think he is, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

You placed the last box in the moving van as Toriel climbed into the driver’s seat.  Sans was standing by her door, looking up through the window and saying, “got everything?”

 

She was clearly trying not to look stressed at the moving truck’s dash as she replied, “Yes.  Yes, I have gone over the checklist four times now.  I went through every drawer and cupboard.”

 

“got your pictures?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“snacks for the drive?”

 

“Check.”

 

“you got frisk?”

 

“Yes, I—”  Her face dropped.  “W-wait.  F…Frisk?  Frisk?!  My child, where—”

 

You held back a laugh when they jumped out from their hiding place in front of the truck to draw a startled bleat out of their mother.

 

“check,” sans chuckled.

 

“Oh, goodness, you…!  Frisk, do _not_ scare me like that!”  Despite that, she was trying not to grin as she reached over and opened the passenger side door.  “Get in here!  And do not forget to fasten your seatbelt.”

 

You followed them to their side of the truck.  You grinned, leaned against the side and said, “Guess we’re gonna be roomies, huh?”

 

They nodded joyously.  They opened the familiar backpack on their chest and signed something down into it.  You heard a muffled, “ _Hmph,_ ” then they looked back up at you with a thumbs up.  **We’re both excited!**

 

“Aha, well, I bet at least half of that’s true.”  You raised a brow at the backpack.

 

“Wow, Ms. Kill-joy is actually _right_ for once.”  The top of Flowey’s blossom peered out at you.

 

Frisk frowned at him.  **Come on.  You’re _totally_ gonna have fun with us.**

 

“You mean like how I _always_ have fun with your stupid friends?  Get real.”

 

**But you like Naya!**

 

“What?!  No I—”

 

**You can give us guitar lessons every night!**   They grinned at you.  **All three of us.**

 

“Uh, dunno how well I could teach a flower to play guitar,” you said, “but yeah, if your mom wants to learn too, that’d be chill.”

 

**Mom?** they started to sign, but then they froze.  For a moment, just the briefest flash, their face turned tense, and then they were smiling again and nodding.  **Right yeah with mom that’s right.  Guitar with mom.** They nodded so fast the backpack started to bounce on their chest.

 

“Agh, _jeez,_ cut it out!”

 

Too abruptly, they climbed into the truck and shut the door.  You blinked as they buckled their seatbelt and looked straight ahead, smile fixed.

 

“Oh, are we ready then?” Toriel asked.

 

Frisk kept nodding.  They kept smiling.

 

You tilted your head and watched them, but they just signed a big, cheerful, **Goodbye!!** as Toriel started the engine.  You were waving them away and watching the truck pull out of the parking lot all too quickly.

 

* * *

 

 

You took one last look out your bedroom window.

 

It wasn’t much of a view—just the street, the courtyard, the buildings across from you—but you’d had the same view for more than a year now.  You’d seen sun, fog, and snow out that window.  You looked up at the ceiling, at the walls and the closet.  The room looked _huge_ now that it was empty.

 

Completely empty.

 

You walked toward the door.  You weren’t sad, not at all, but…how weird.  This place had become so familiar, the same messes and the same furniture, but now it was a blank slate.  You weren’t sad.  You _weren’t_.  You’d just spent so much time here, and a strange, new part of you thought that it deserved a goodbye.

 

“Well,” you said out loud to no-one, “It’s, uh…it’s been real.”  After a moment’s hesitation, you patted one of the walls.  “Yeah.  Been real, so…y’know.  Thanks.”

 

You finally opened the front door, and just as expected, the black cat was there waiting for you, yet he didn’t try to walk in.  He just watched you quietly lock up.  You stared down at him for a few moments, meeting his green, passive eyes.

 

You sighed.  “Look, buddy, I’m gonna level with you.”  You crouched down.  “Maybe you have some business going on somewhere else.  I dunno where you go during the day sometimes, like…like maybe you have another house?  Or a cat-wife?  So like…if you don’t wanna tag along, I’m not gonna make you.  Y’know?”

 

He didn’t blink.

 

“Just wanted to leave it up to you, and…”  You paused, then snorted.  You put a hand to your head and murmured, “I dunno why I’m talking to a cat, but…shit.  You just listen to every word, don’t you?”

 

Still no blink.

 

“Anyway.”  You looked down to see the moving truck waiting for you, with Sans in the passenger seat.  You bit your lip.  “I guess, uh…keep it nasty?”  You reached out and gave his head a scratch, lingering on the notched tip of his left ear.  “And I’ll see you around.”

 

Oh dang.  You _were_ sad.  Not scared or nervous or regretful, just sad.  You rose to your feet and slouched down the stairs, sighing and shoving your hands in your coat pockets.

 

“you good?” Sans asked once you reached street-level.

 

“Yeah,” you murmured.

 

“uh, sure you’re not forgetting something?”

 

“Nope.”  You swiped hastily at your eyes.  “It’s empty.”

 

Sans raised a brow and pointed behind you.

 

You spun.  The black cat stopped.  He was following just a pace behind you, tail raised and waving casually above him.  He stared up at you.

 

“U-uh, oh, _oh_ , uh, I didn’t think—I-I don’t have a box for him?”

 

Sans opened his door.  Nonchalantly, the cat strode past you and hopped into his lap.  He took his time getting settled before looking back at you with an expression that said, _You coming?_

 

The sadness evaporated into…surprise?  Panic?  Relief?  “He…we…how’re we gonna—”

 

“we’ve got food for catsup, she can share.”

 

“But where’s he gonna—”

 

“seems pretty chill about sitting with me.”  He ran a hand along the cat’s back, who already had his eyes closed comfortably.

 

“…Ok.  Ok ok ok, sure, I…I just.  Definitely have a cat now.”

 

You went to the driver’s side.  You climbed in.  You braced your hands on the wheel, then gave the cat another look.  He just faced the windshield.  He was as calm as you’d ever seen him.

 

“so?”

 

You blinked.  “Uh.  So what.”

 

Sans nodded down at the cat.  “he’s clearly not going anywhere.  what’re you gonna name him?”

 

You stared at his grin for a moment.  From the backseat, you heard a pitiful meow.  Catsup was boxed up safely in her carrier, but from the moment Sans had carried her out of the apartment, she’d been crying.  For as happy and carefree as she was in the house, she apparently hated travel.  Your eyes lingered on her, then they slid back to the cat.  Slowly, he turned toward you.  You could hear his purr from where you were sitting as his green eyes gave a slow blink.

 

“i mean, no rush, we can always think of a name when we—”

 

“Pickles.”

 

It took a moment to process, then Sans’ grin was stretching in delight.  Catsup gave another wail as he said, “perfect.”

 

Numbly, you started to drive.  You let go with one hand and offered it, not looking away from the road.  Sans took it.  You inhaled, you exhaled.  You glanced in the rearview as you turned a corner, out of sight of your old building.  You squeezed his hand.

 

“Welcome to the crew, Pickles.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....wow.
> 
> Ok. Fifty chapters. 412 pages. _162,175 words._ I'm...guys. Look at me. _Look_ into my eyes, I have _never_ committed to a writing thing this hard for this long, it's very very new for me and i'm a little bit proud of it and i care about it a lot, I just
> 
> ....so this is the end of part 1. Spoiler, we're still a little less than _halfway_ through the story, but this was my _big benchmark._ since the beginning I've had it in my mind that like "ok if i can make it to where she moves, this is for real. then i'm in this _for real_ " and here it is and it's nutso wackadoo.
> 
> I'm so grateful to you guys for reading it. I'm...I don't really have words? But this is the only thing in my life that's ever made me go "maybe I can make money writing at some point." Nothing has ever made me think that. But you guys do. You make me think that maybe I won't be working a back-breaking 7am-6pm job for the rest of my life.
> 
> Thank you. See you in Ebott.


	51. Mountain Mama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back  
> back again  
> moddo's back  
> tell a fren
> 
> let part 2 COMMENCE  
> and also [https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/](GET%20OVER%20HERE)

It was just as tall as you remembered.

 

"Sans."

 

He gave a mumbled reply and shifted in his seat.

 

"Sans, wake up."

 

"y'gotta take a pit stop again?" he drawled sleepily.  "how much water've you been—"

 

" _Look_."

 

Finally, Sans stretched, rubbed his neck, and looked out the windshield.  From the corner of your eye, you could see him freeze, one hand on Pickles as the cat stood to arch his back.  You didn't take your eyes off it as his head tilted up to its peak, then over to your blank expression.  You said nothing.  Neither did he, even though part of you wanted him to.  At least one of you should've been acting like this was all no big deal, right?

 

The mountain before you was backlit by a halo of sunset, making it all the more dark and imposing.  Snow poured through its crags and cliffs, turning every tree black in contrast.  You'd been travelling since early morning.  Even though you'd been in the driver's seat for the entirety of the journey, you didn't feel tired.  No, you'd been feeling steadily sharper and more focused the closer you got.

 

Through the silence came a female voice: "Use right lane to take exit 203 for Ebott Valley."  The words hung heavy between you and reminded you that, to your discomfort, you hadn't really needed the GPS in the end.  The route had been all too familiar.

 

You heard bone scraping bone as he scratched his cheek.  Maybe he was trying to think of something to say.  Maybe you should say something.  Anything to get your mind off this...weirdness.

 

"wanna pick up dinner before we—"

 

"Of course I'm ok."

 

"oh."

 

You bit your lip and clutched the wheel harder.  You were speeding through the canyon now, with the mountain walling up your right and the road dropping into an icy river on the left.  You could remember everything about driving by that river.  You could remember waving to the people in kayaks; once you'd seen a family of deer drinking; and look, that little island with the dead tree was still there.

 

His skull turned silently to follow the avalanche warning signs as they passed.  On his lap, Pickles started to groom himself.

 

There was that big cave in one of the mountain's steeper cliffs.  You'd always watched it so intently when it passed, hoping to see a bear or a yeti or maybe a kid like you, roughing it in the wild.

 

"You should reach your destination by—"

 

"Can you turn that off?"

 

He did, quietly.  You heard Catsup pipe up with an unhappy meow.

 

You could see the road bend up ahead, and you knew that the valley would soon come into view.  You took a deep breath through your nose.

 

"wanna hear a joke?"

 

You blinked.  Eyes straight ahead, you said, "Sure."

 

"what do you call a cat in a moving van?"

 

"Uh...I don't know."

 

"a _car-pet_."

 

You finally glanced away from the road.  Sans was grinning and holding up Pickles so his body dangled long beneath him.  The cat looked utterly unimpressed.  It took you a couple moments of glancing between them before a snort forced its way out of you.

 

"That was very, _very_ bad."

 

"but i worked so hard on it."  He lifted Pickles so that his back paws were on his shoulders and his front on his head.  "i even put on my _thinking-cat_."

 

The smile grew a bit more.  You shook your head.  "Oh my god."

 

"i mean, i've had my bad _meow-ments_ —"

 

"Snrk, stop—"

 

"—but i wouldn't call this a total _cat-tastrophe_."

 

"Really just grabbing that low-hanging fruit, huh?"

 

"hey, c'mon, you're hurting my _mew-lings_.”

 

"That barely even works!" you snickered.

 

"i'd say it worked pretty well."

 

The laughter caught in your throat when he put a hand over yours—you hadn't noticed when your grip had relaxed on the steering wheel.  You stared at his white knuckles for a moment.  You looked ahead, and the bend in the road was almost upon you, decorated with a tarnished old sign that read, "Welcome to Ebott Valley!"  You glanced back at him; his eyes were already there, ready to meet yours with soft reassurance.

 

"...Just a little nervous."

 

"i know."

 

Staring at that bend, bracing yourself for the view, you let go of the wheel with one hand and kept it locked with his, held between you over the center console.

 

God.  That same-old spectacular view.

 

The valley stretched in twilight before you, dotted by city and suburb and bare, wintery forest all the way to the ocean shore.  It hadn't changed at all, not one bit since you'd last seen it.  There was downtown with its glossy skyscrapers; the big, extravagant houses still crept up the mountainside while the rest lived at its base; and through the center cut the river, winding through and tying it all off like an orange ribbon.  You forgot you were holding Sans' hand.  You forgot you'd ever left.  You slumped, and you realized exactly what this feeling was, what that view was telling you, and you suddenly felt like you'd just been defeated in a long, pointless war.

 

Sans' ringtone cut through the air like a siren.

 

With a glance, he answered and put it on speaker, saying, "yo."

 

Toriel's grainy voice answered, "Greetings my friends!  How has your drive been?  Are you close?  Should I start dinner now or hold off?"

 

"we're just coming out of the canyon."  Either Sans hadn't noticed the new heaviness in your expression, or his light tone was a very good act.  "should be there in a few minutes."

 

"Oh, wonderful!" she trilled.  "Shall I invite Simone?  I know Frisk has been awfully anxious to catch up with Tyler."

 

He definitely noticed the slight twitch in your frown, as he replied, "y'know, we're gonna be pretty beat from the drive.  we're both looking forward to just hitting the sack."

 

"Of course, of course," she agreed, and you could almost see the reassuring wave she would've been giving.  "Of course you will be exhausted, I am sure Frisk will understand."

 

"thanks, t."

 

"Plus, we will be seeing them tomorrow for New Years regardless!"

 

You almost swooned.  _Oh my god, **tomorrow's New Years Eve**.  Where the hell did the time go?_

 

"yup."  Sans eyes were still trained on you, still soft and attentive.  "we'll see you in a sec."

 

"Tell Anaya we cannot _wait_ to have her!"

 

You bit your lip while Sans chuckled, "i'll tell her."

 

Silence again.  You were descending through a swathe of forest now, momentarily staving off the view.  Slowly, you let go of Sans' hand to click on the radio.  You automatically knew the best stations to turn to, and as the classic rock rolled through the vehicle, you took his hand again.

 

"Simone?" you murmured.

 

"friend of ours."

 

"Oh."

 

He scratched down the length of Pickles' back, leaning in his seat and lazily watching the trees turn into buildings.  You focused on the music, following the words in your head but finding yourself unable to sing them.

 

"what're you thinking?"

 

The question was casual; he was still looking out the window.  Lying occurred to you for just an instant, but a scoff kicked out of your mouth to preclude the truth.

 

"That this was inevitable?"

 

He turned to you.

 

You pulled up to a red light.  You let go of the wheel to rub your temple, staring down at the dash and continuing, "Like all the time I spent away from here wasn't real?  Like it was all just...a vacation, or something."

 

"is that a bad thing?"

 

You tensed.  The light turned green, and it wasn't until the car behind you honked that you pulled through it.  You tried to refocus on driving, but you were boiling over, all the strangeness crawling over your skin with every landmark you passed.

 

"Yes?  I mean, I don't...I don't know.”

 

You actually grimaced at the next stop sign, looking to the left and knowing that street so intimately well.  If you wanted to change route toward your parents’ house, this would be the turn to take.  And your hands _knew it_.  They twitched and tensed, like they _wanted_ to go that way.  The park you’d loved as a kid was that way.  Your old elementary school.  That snow-cone stand by the gas station that only opened in the summer. 

 

“It makes me feel like...like I..."

 

_...Like the last five years were a waste._

 

You looked at the mountain looming in the rearview.  It really was massive, wasn't it?  You could remember seeing it every day growing up.  It was always there, watching over the place.  It was part of the furniture.  You couldn't have imagined living without that mountain, and now that you had, now that you were seeing it again for the first time and realizing it was _exactly_ the same as it'd always been, right down to where the snow clung to it, you were forced to acknowledge just how much you'd _missed_ it.

 

"so it always looked like this?"

 

There was a genuine curiosity in his voice that pulled you out of your head.

 

"Like what?"

 

"y'know."  He gestured in front of you.  You were driving down a rise that gave a perfect view of the sun dipping into the sea.  "like this."

 

You still weren't sure what he was referring to, but when you looked at the warm light coloring his bones and the bright, focused way he watched the sunset, it finally dawned on you.  A thought that you probably should've had from the beginning.  Once again, you looked at the rearview.

 

This wasn't just the hometown you'd run away from, and that wasn't just the mountain you'd grown up with.

 

That had been _him_.

 

And just as it occurred to you, you pulled out of the woody neighborhoods and into the main streets, lined with old but quaint buildings leading into the taller, developed section of the city.  Your eyes widened, your jaw slacked, and any thoughts of familiarity faded into the background.

 

Monsters, more than you'd ever seen in one place, filled your vision.  They walked down the street and chatted with human companions.  Monster children wearing snow-boots stomped around in the slush.  At least half the stores sported new signs, advertising monster products, monster business, monster food.  A pair of fairy-like creatures were hanging a sign across the street that advertised a New Years block party.  There was such a variety, so many new species, new faces, new _people_ that you'd never, ever met.

 

"turn right at this next one."

 

You flinched back to attention.  "Oh.  Right, ok."

 

You kept staring as he directed you.  You'd thought maybe it was just downtown that was so full of monsters, but no, it continued down every street and past every park.  Monsters and humans in equal measure.  They'd come in your absence, and now you understood.  You could look at it from above and feel sick with unwelcome nostalgia, you could see the ocean and the river and the mountain and think nothing had changed, but the truth was, _everything_ had changed.  You'd grown up not knowing Mt. Ebott was full, and now, you'd almost forgotten it was empty.

 

"Different."

 

"what?"

 

The murmured word had just slipped out.  You blinked and glanced at him.  You almost felt embarrassed.  How ignorant, saying it hadn't changed, sulking about it, dreading it.

 

"It's...it _is_ different."

 

He chuckled.  All this time you'd been holding his hand, and now he brought it to his teeth and held it there.  "just a little, huh?"

 

"I mean, yeah, I remember all the streets and stuff, but like...now you're here," you said, looking out at a clam-like monster chatting with a human at a bus stop.  "You're all here."

 

"there goes the neighborhood, right?"

 

You snickered and gave him a chagrinned smile; he returned it with a blue one.  The valley wasn’t the only thing that had changed.

 

**_You're_ ** _here._

 

Sans was directing you to a less populated area of the suburb, where the houses were smaller and the plots were bigger.  It was closer to the beach than the mountain, the lower ground making it look even more massive in the distance.

 

"here we are."

 

The house that he designated as Toriel's was a modest brick cottage that looked like it belonged on a postcard.  It sat on a slight rise, and behind it stretched a perfect view of the beach.  Even in winter, you could tell that the surrounding garden would be impressive and bursting when in bloom; rosebushes crowded the fence and planter boxes surrounded the entire house, with a cobblestone path winding through it all to the door.  The moving truck was parked in the driveway, already emptied, and you pulled up just as Toriel emerged from the house to place a pair of lawn chairs on the porch.  At the sight of you, she gasped and called back through the door, summoning Frisk to rush out and greet you.

 

Your legs were wobbly when you disembarked—you hadn't felt the driving-exhaustion all day, but now it was hitting you like a wave.  There wasn’t much snow being so close to the water, but that only seemed to make it colder.  You hugged yourself and gave Toriel a shaky attempt at a smile.  Sans came out the passenger side with Catsup's crate in one hand and Pickles in the other.

 

"Welcome home my friends!" Toriel sang, arms wide.

 

Frisk was on their way to tackle-hug you, but they immediately changed course at the sight of the black cat.  Their eyes and smile widened as they took him from Sans, brandished him happily at Toriel, and whisked him back into the house.

 

"Ah."  Toriel watched them go in confusion.  "You have a cat...?"

 

You shrugged apologetically.  "Sorry.  New development."

 

"Ah, right, no, that is...that is fine.  That is..."  She had to stop for a moment to take a breath, and you realized just how tired she looked, too.  "Phew.  We will all be fine with that, yes."

 

"long day, t?" Sans chuckled, coming up beside you to speak over Catsup's wails.

 

"You could certainly say that," she sighed, offering you both a tired smile.

 

"Same here," you muttered.  If you were with your two closest friends, you didn't feel like there was any point in trying to hide it.  You were beat in every sense of the word.

 

She seemed to understand right away, ushering you toward the house without any fanfare and saying, "Well, at least have something to eat.  Then I will show you to your room."

 

Inside the house was just as welcoming as out.  Boxes crowded the corners and there were some obvious gaps on the wall where there should have been pictures, but it still looked like a home.  Curtains on every window; the living room was open to the kitchen and furnished with a cushy couch and armchair; and the brick fireplace was already lit.  Frisk had let Pickles loose, and was following him closely as he sniffed around the unfamiliar space.

 

“Pardon the mess,” Toriel chuckled on her way to the kitchen.  “I hope you do not mind eating off paper plates.”

 

Sans set Catsup’s carrier down—inviting Pickles to immediately stride over to study it—and said, “i’d eat off the floor at this point.”

 

“Not in my house.”

 

With the cats preoccupied, Frisk took your arm and grinned at you as the four of you headed toward the kitchen.  You managed a to give a tired smile back.

 

“How was the trip, dude?”

 

They let go to sign, **I got carsick and threw up!**

 

“O-oh.  Oh, geez, I’m sorry.”

 

They shrugged, still looking cheerful.  **Felt better after!**

 

You glanced at their back, then swept your eyes around the living room before asking, “Is Flowey around?”

 

**Resting,** they explained, pointing toward a hall which you assumed led to their bedroom.  **He doesn’t really like long car rides.  But he’ll be happy to see you tomorrow!**

For some reason, that was what stuck in your mind and brought to your attention the fact that you’d be _living_ with these people.  You’d been living alone ever since…well, ever since the last time you were in Ebott.  It put the still unfamiliar house in a suddenly new perspective.

 

You tried so hard not to appear too tired over dinner, but it seemed impossible to pay attention to Frisk enthusiastically recounting all the horrible gas station bathrooms they stopped at on the drive over.  You only got a few bites in before your lids were dropping and your fork was limp, and it was Sans who ultimately helped you out of your chair and deeper into the house.  Pickles followed close behind both of you in spite of a lonely cry from Catsup.

 

He stopped you in a doorway and gave you a moment to look around.  It was small, just big enough for the full bed in one corner and a dresser in the other, but what drew your attention was the window.  It looked over the front yard, over the fence, all the way to Mount Ebott.  There weren’t any other houses between you and the mountain, and right now, stars were just starting to appear around it in the dark purple horizon.  Your memory flashed to your old window and its view over a gray city block and blaring, orange streetlight, and you actually felt your soul give a little tremble of wonder.

 

“we can unpack your sheets and junk tomorrow,” Sans was saying, going to the closet and getting a quilt to lay over the bed.  “i’ll come over first thing to help.”

 

You blinked.  Oh, right.  _He_ didn’t live here.  You looked around again.  Pickles was already making himself comfortable on the windowsill, crouching in a ball and squinting at you with nearly glowing eyes.  You could still hear Toriel’s muffled voice in the kitchen.  You blinked again.

 

“naya?”

 

“Huh?”

 

You heard him chuckle, and only then did you realize you’d already plopped down on the bed.  You looked at him blearily.  His face was as soft as it’d been all day, and maybe a little worried.

 

“…what’re you thinking?”

 

You squeezed the quilt—there were a few loose threads, but it was warm and soft.  You glanced at Pickles as he blinked in return.  You muttered, “I was thinking…the view’s not half bad.”

 

He smiled.  With a glance at the door, he sat down beside you.  He took your hands from your lap and stared down at them.  You watched them too, until he brought them to his mouth, to lips you couldn’t see.  A tension that had been building all day loosened just a bit.

 

“you’ll be ok.”

 

From the way he said it, it could’ve been a question or a statement.  You let hair fall over your face as you bent toward him, feeling so, so tired, and then he took your cheek.  He tilted you up slowly, gently, and kissed you.  You let out a breath as the tension uncoiled even more.

 

Your foreheads stayed touching for a few moments after as he murmured, “see you tomorrow.”

 

You closed your eyes.  “Ok.”

 

The room was colder without him.  You nestled down under the quilt and stayed staring out at the view, out across the valley, waiting for sleep.  It barely registered when the dainty weight of Pickles sprung up to your feet and curled down between them.

 

Surreal.  The whole day, the new house, the view.  You watched the sky darken around the mountain until you couldn’t hold your eyes open anymore.  It was all so much the same.  It was all entirely different.  Even if this wasn’t the same Ebott you’d left five years ago, one thing, one realization had made itself uncomfortably, undeniably clear. 

 

You were home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok here's the skinny, i'm all up in salt lake city, so i know a whoooole lotta things about mountains and also 0 (zero) things about water. how do coastal winters work???? i don't know. i am familiar only with Snow and Altitude.


	52. Just Call Me Emininem Night Shamalamalama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i'm sorry i was in hibernation for yearsssssss_
> 
> it was a persona 5 induced coma (which i still haven't beat so like don't put your money on consistent updates yet)
> 
> can i just say, the comments on the last chapter tickled me so much?? there were other utahns in there, people explaining to me how winter works where they live, super cute. i appreciate you all.
> 
> [it's my tumblr and i'll cry if i want to](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com)

“…think she’ll be good in a couple minutes.”

 

Your eyes cracked open, sticky with sleep.  It felt like you’d only just closed them.  You blinked up at Sans—he was sitting on the side of your bed and facing the door.  Pickles was in his lap.

 

“Ugh, hasn’t she slept _enough_?”

 

“’pparently not,” he chuckled, and you heard Flowey groan in response and a soft pair of footsteps skip away.

 

“Sans?” you croaked.

 

He turned quickly toward you, smile brightening.

 

You rubbed your eyes and asked in confusion, “What’re you still doin’ here?”

 

“uh.”  He tilted his head.  “still?”

 

“Y’gotta go get some sleep.”  You squinted blearily at him.  “We’re doin’ like…New Year’s shit tomorrow.”

 

“…it’s ten in the morning.”

 

You gave him a look like you suddenly didn’t trust him, and then wakefulness snapped over you.  You sat straight up and stared out the window.  Mt. Ebott still stared back, the same view in different colors—that kind of morning pale that let you know how cold it was just by looking.  A headache chased your too-fast wake-up, and you clutched your temples as you groaned, “Oh.  _Oh man_ , jeez, _I’ve been asleep for twelve hours,_ holy—”

 

“you also drove twelve hours.  no breaks.”

 

“Uuugh my _heeead_ …”

 

“aw, babe,” he laughed gently, and you couldn’t tell if he was actually sympathetic or just amused.  He leaned closer and put a hand over one of yours, weaving his fingers through your hair.  Pickles jumped from his lap and left the room without sparing you a glance.

 

“Gotta move stuff in today,” you grumbled.

 

“hey, no rush.  let’s get some food in you first.”

 

Just the word “food” suddenly brought to your attention the amazing smell wafting in from the hallway, and you were reminded of how little you’d had for dinner.

 

You blinked at the door, then at him, and you said blankly, “I’m in Tori’s house.”

 

He grinned.  “with all the perks.”

 

You glanced down at yourself.  You hadn’t brought in your packed clothes, so you couldn’t change out of the travel sweats you’d worn to bed.  You didn’t even have a toothbrush with you, or a hairbrush, and you were sure you looked like the dictionary definition of disheveled.  Your mental state wasn’t in much better shape.  You were just as out of your element as you’d been last night, and the helpless stare you gave Sans conveyed just that.

 

“…I live with people now,” you whispered.

 

“yeah.”

 

“They’re gonna see me looking like…”  You waved a hand around the mess that was your head.

 

He quirked a brow.  “like what?”

 

“Like I just lost a fight with my mattress.”

 

Sans snorted out a laugh, despite the continued self-consciousness in your eyes.  “ _pft_ , what?  no, you look—”

 

“Don’t you dare say great.”

 

“—uh.”

 

“I look like I styled my hair with drool.”  He kept chuckling, and your frown kept deepening.  “Like Nyquil had a one-night-stand with an Ambien.”

 

“what the fuck?” he snickered in delight.

 

“You want more?  I got more.”

 

He was giving you a perplexed grin and shaking his head.  “i dunno if i should be concerned…?  or impressed?  or—”

 

“I’m really not used to this, Sans.”

 

You grumble sounded even more pathetic than you meant it to, and his humor softened until he was meeting your eyes with that same quietness he’d given you the night before.  His pupils flickered away for just a moment when one of Toriel’s laughs rang in from the kitchen, and softly, he reached over and pushed the door almost shut.

 

“do you not wanna go out today?”

 

You blinked.  “I…um.”

 

“i know everyone’s gonna wanna see you,” he murmured, “but you can take this at your own pace, y’know?”

 

You looked at him.  You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to figure out exactly where you were at.  You just felt… _weird_.  This might be easier to figure out if you were one or the other, miserable or excited, but you only felt displaced.  It made you guilty.  You wanted to give him clear direction on how to make you feel better, or maybe you wanted him to tease your bedhead too, or…you didn’t know.

 

But your growling stomach did.

 

You avoided looking at the grin you knew would be building as you asked, “Did…did I smell waffles earlier…?”

 

Sans laughed, and when you allowed yourself a glance you saw such a sweet affection in his face that, finally, you smiled.

 

“i love you so much,” he said, almost instinctually, like it was a natural response to a waffle inquiry.

 

“And I love—”  Your stomach growled again.  The tentative smile dropped.  “—waffles.  I fucking just… _love_ those breakfast boys, so let’s get goi—”

 

He pulled your lips to his teeth, and as his shoulders shook, your grin grew against his and you both giggled into each other’s breath.

 

You were laughing.  That was a start.

 

The scene you and Sans walked in on was like a picture out of a catalogue.  Daylight made the Hoepfull’s kitchen glow with shabby charm—if you were a realtor, you’d say the shaker cabinets and farm sink had “character.”  Toriel leaned by the waffle-maker, wearing a robe and beaming over her coffee at Frisk and Flowey, who were sitting at the breakfast bar.  Frisk already had a plate stacked with forty percent waffle and sixty percent whip cream.  Flowey held a fork in one leaf and was aimlessly—angrily?—stabbing at the teen’s food.

 

“Good morning, Anaya!”  Toriel looked refreshed from the tired smiles she’d given you last night.  “I trust you slept well?”

 

“Slept like a freaking _log_ ,” Flowey muttered.

 

Frisk tried to grin through their mouthful of cream as they pulled out the stool next to them, giving it a pointed pat.

 

You could still taste the grime of sleep, and for a moment hunger and nerves duked it out in your mind.  Fortunately, another growl from your stomach made it a quick fight.  “Thanks,” you said, accepting the stool.  Toriel promptly set a three-high stack of waffles in front of you and pushed the syrup, cream and strawberries within reach.

 

“you work on that,” Sans said, still standing in the kitchen’s entrance, “i’ll start getting your stuff inside.”

 

You whipped around with bulging cheeks and protested, “Wai’, ‘ou don’ hafta—”

 

He put up one finger to quiet you while the other hand covered his snickers.  “no.  it’s cool.  eat.  you can help me after you’re totally hammered on waffles.”

 

“I should start unpacking as well,” Toriel sighed, setting down her mug.  “It will not be long before I will have to start entertaining again.  It would not due to have a house furnished by boxes.”

 

Sans put a hand on your shoulder to lean you back, gave the top of your head a quick kiss, and then he and Toriel were putting on jackets and heading out the front door.  The casual bit of affection, with no regard to who might be watching, brought a full-mouthed smile to your cheeks.

 

“He’s been even grosser than usual all morning.”

 

“Jealous?” you quipped back instantly.

 

Frisk’s laugh sent specks of whip cream across the counter.

 

“ _No!_   Ew!”  Flowey threw down his fork with a disgusted scowl.  “ _Ugh_ , remind me why we’re letting her live here?!”

 

**She’s our friend!**

 

“So?”

 

“So ‘ou fin’lly admi’ we frien’s,” you chewed.

 

“I hate this.  I hate this I hate this, stop talking with your mouth full I hate this.”

 

You and Frisk laughed, but gave him a break by focusing on your waffles for a bit.  You intermittently smiled over your shoulder at Sans and Toriel as they went in and out with armfuls of boxes.  At one point you were joined by Pickles, who sat expectantly at Frisk’s stool as the teen got a dollop of whip cream on their finger, then reached down to let him lick it off.

 

“These are some dang good waffles,” you said at the end of your stack.  “Must be the magic.”

 

**Magic waffles,** Frisk agreed.  They leaned back against the counter and patted their belly.  Silently, they watched Sans use magic to float a few boxes into your bedroom.  They waited until he was back outside to sign, **Naya?**

 

“Yeah?”

 

**Does all this make you feel better?**

 

You paused to stare at them.  Flowey had seen their words too, and he took on a neutral frown as he turned away toward the kitchen window.  They quietly took his pot and set it on their lap—he didn’t react.  They continued before you could think of an answer.

 

**We know you didn’t want to come at first.** Their eyes were trained down at Flowey, and his were still trained outside.  **But we have this house.  And everybody’s close by.  And there’s waffles.**

A moment of stillness, then you said, “The waffles are a definite plus, yeah.”

 

They smiled.  They beamed at you with those red eyes and signed, **This is a good place, even if it wasn’t always that way.  I get it.**

 

Something in Flowey’s expression changed, like he took on an added sadness, an added softness, and just barely, he leaned his blossom so the tips of his petals touched Frisk’s chest.  They squeezed his pot just a little closer.  Maybe for the first time, it dawned on you that the look of a storied past that you’d seen in Sans, in Toriel, and in yourself so many times was reflected even in the face of this kid.  There was a lot you still didn’t know, and one day, you might learn.  But for now, in the peaceful morning light of the kitchen, it was enough to be their friend.  It was enough to smile back and feel better and say, “Thanks, guys.”

 

Unpacking went by smoothly, especially with Sans there to use magic for the heavy lifting.  He kept working as you took a shower, brushed your teeth and changed into a clean set of clothes.  Even with your late breakfast, you were still more than happy to take a lunch break for some sandwiches, and before you knew it, half the day was gone.  Your room looked like someone actually occupied it.  You were learning your way around the house.  You didn’t feel so out of place.

 

The sun set so early with it being the middle of winter, and it was only when it started getting dark that you were reminded about the night’s festivities.

 

“Will you two be joining us for the block party?” Toriel asked as she was straightening some hanging pictures.

 

You snapped up from the box you were rummaging through.  “Oh my god it’s New Years, _why do I keep forgetting it’s New Years?_ ”

 

Frisk suddenly stormed into the room.  They’d changed into a long sundress with a fireworks print, sneakers, and a puffy sub-zero coat over the whole thing.  **YOU HAVE TO COME,** they signed loudly.

 

“are you helping to cater this year?”  Sans was in the kitchen, trying to put away dishes in cabinets that he was too short for, which resulted in him using magic instead of grabbing the stepping stool that was three feet away from him.

 

“I offered, but Simone declined.  She knew I would be busy with Frisk, and the move, and scrambling to get everything ready for the school year which starts in just a week and I still have not come up with my lesson plans but it is fine, I am fine.”  Her eyes had been growing progressively wider and darker as she spoke, but she shook it off with a smile and added, “But I am contributing a few batches of cupcakes nonetheless!”

 

There was that name again.  “So…Simone is your friend?”

 

She perked up.  “Yes!  Our very good friend.  Her son Tyler is one of my students.”

 

**TYLER!**   Frisk punched out his name excitedly.  **I miss Tyler.**

“He is a bit younger than Frisk, but they are exceptionally close!”

 

Frisk suddenly started pushing Toriel toward the hall, tugging at their own clothes as if to signal something to their mother.

 

“Alright, alright, I shall go get dressed!” she laughed, rolling her eyes at you and Sans as Frisk took her all the way to her bedroom, presumable to pick out the perfect New Years outfit.

 

You were both quiet for a moment, then Sans said, “no pressure.”

 

“I know.”

 

He watched you pulling out and looking at the covers of books before shelving them, until he walked over to immediately wrap his arms around your waist from behind.  You drew in a short breath to feel the hard points of his nostrils press into the back of your neck, and after that initial tingle that came with touching him, you relaxed.

 

“seriously,” he murmured into your hair.  “if you wanna chill, we can just chill.  put on pajamas, pop some corn, throw in that old movie with the evil singing plant you told me about—”

 

“He doesn’t sing in that version, you’re thinking of the Rick Moranis one which is _good_ good and not bad good like the one I wanna subject you to.”

 

You heard a little more smile in his voice when he continued, “point is, no one’s gonna judge you, and i’m gonna stick with you.”

 

You put up your hands to hold the arms that encased you.  “You’d ditch a block party for me?”

 

“let’s be fair, i’d ditch a block party for most things,” he snorted.  He squeezed you.  “but yeah.”

 

As tempting an offer as it was, you just sighed.  All day as things had gotten more comfortable, you’d braced yourself for the impending dread of going out tonight, seeing people, exposing yourself to the town you’d run away from, but the dread had never come.  You still felt weird, certainly, yet at the same time you were…curious, maybe?  Resolved?  God, why did your emotions have to be so unreadable?

 

“I think…I think I do wanna go out.”  You turned in his arms, placing your hands on his chest and meeting his eyes.  “I’ll need an escape plan ready, like a _real_ tight one, like we’ll need at least three guys on escape vehicles—”

 

He grinned.  “a couple snipers maybe?  if things get spicy?”

 

“Oh for sure.  We’re gonna want some tailored disguises, too.”

 

“i’m thinkin’ cocktail dresses.  something elegant, but subtle.  don’t wanna stand out too much.”

 

“And smoke bombs.  Lots of smoke bombs.”

 

“i’ll call my smoke bomb guy.”

 

You both laughed for a second, then your looks became quiet and mutually reassuring.  You grabbed a clump of his shirt and said, “But really.  If you could just…stay close?  The whole night?  I think I’ll be ok.  And maybe I’ll regret this, but…the whole point of me coming back was so I could _stop_ running away, right?”

 

He just stared at you before slowly leaning in for a long, still kiss.  You closed your eyes, and you knew he’d be there.  He’d be there the whole time.  And you would be okay.

 

You broke apart when you heard Toriel’s door open, still holding hands as Frisk presented their mom’s sweater top and A-line skirt.  The outfit was sparkly, glamorous even, and you and Sans applauded it even as Toriel blushed self-consciously.  You waited until they were once again out of earshot to hiss at Sans, “We’re not dressing up, right?”

 

“i mean, i could comb my hair if you think that’d make a difference.”

 

You snorted and gave him a shove.

 

You all gathered the cupcakes Toriel had made, bundled up for the frigid night air, and headed out.  Toriel must’ve left her car here for the past few months, because she led you all to the garage with a big, powerful-looking pickup truck that you’d never seen before.  “The only thing that would fit me,” she explained as you all piled in.

 

There were already people setting off fireworks in the street as you drove, and just as it had been on your way to the Hoepfull’s house, you couldn’t help picking up landmarks.  The drive-in Mexican place that’d changed names at least seven times since it had opened.  The public swimming pool that never seemed to have the same lifeguard twice.  The dog park which you and your friends had pretended was populated by fairies.

 

Before heading toward the party, Toriel took a detour through a section of suburbs just outside of downtown.

 

“Aren’t we going to main street?” you asked.

 

“We are stopping by Simone’s house to help transport food.”  Toriel gripped the wheel and pouted.  “I will not let her stop me from assisting her with that, at least.”

 

**YOU GET TO MEET TYLER!!**   Frisk really was excited about this family.  That helped you relax a little—if you had to meet new people tonight, at least you were sure they’d be friendly.

 

You pulled up to a mid-sized house with a garden that was even more impressive than Toriel’s.  Even in winter you could see how masterful the landscaping was, and…were those flowers?  Covered in snow?  Was that even possible?

 

You hung back with Sans as you all approached the front door.  You leaned toward him and muttered, “Alright, what’re the stats?”

 

“what?”

 

“The stats.  Her stats.  What should I know, help me.”

 

“uh, uh, ok uh…she has a kid.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“she’s head of the pta.”

 

“Cool cool, and?”

 

“…uh.”

 

“Is she gonna want a hug?  A handshake?  Come-on-dude-we’re-almost-at-the-doo—”

 

Before Toriel even knocked, the door burst open, and all you heard was squealing.  The goat monster immediately joined in, opening her arms to wrap them around whoever was still in the house.  You couldn’t see who the happy voice belonged to with Toriel blocking, but by her hip you saw a little kid peeking out the door.  Solemn eyes peered out first at you, then at Sans, and finally at Frisk and Flowey.

 

**Tyler!**   To your surprise, Frisk didn’t sign his name nearly as boisterously as they’d done before.

 

 “ _Toriel!!_ ” you heard a woman laughing in the meantime.  “How you been, girl?!  _Gosh_ it’s good to see you!”

 

“It is wonderful to see you too, my friend!” she sang back.  “I was going to stop over last night with Frisk, but—”

 

“Oh no no no, come on, you always push yourself too hard, you needed rest!”

 

As friendly as the exchange was, your anxiety kept mounting.  It was _too_ friendly.  You were about to meet a _good_ friend of your friends, and you wanted to make a good first impression, and whatever impression you made you’d never get to take it back and oh god your palms were sweaty why were you suddenly so hot with it being like twenty degrees outside—

 

“And where’s my handsome little soul?” the woman said.

 

Finally, Toriel stepped aside and gave you a full view of Simone.  She was round and wide in a way that made her look strong, standing a half head taller than you.  She had her hands on her hips and a white smile blazing out from her dark brown skin.  Curly hair surrounded her head like a pillow and bounced as she came forward to give Frisk a warm hug, saying, “Hey, sweetie!  Been awhile, huh?”

 

When she pulled away, Frisk skipped past her to stand in front of Tyler and engage in some silent conversation, and then Simone was left to direct all her attention to you.  Her smile quirked and she said, “You must be Anaya.”

 

_Hug?  Handshake?_   “Yup, that’s me,” you said with an awkward laugh.

 

“I’ve heard so much about you!”  Her look became a bit mischievous as her eyes darted down to your and Sans’ joined hands.

 

_Hug?!  Handshake?!?_   In your panic, you fell forward in probably the most clumsy hug you’d ever bestowed in your life.  To Simone’s credit, she didn’t miss a beat.  Her arms were soon around you and squeezing you tight enough to almost lift you up, then she released you and turned back to Toriel with a grin.

 

“I like her already!”

 

“She has come to be so dear to us in the past few months,” Toriel said with a fond smile toward you.

 

You were burning with embarrassment from your lack of social finesse, but then Sans made it better—or maybe worse—by wrapping his arm firmly around your waist as if to say “you heard right.”

 

“how’s it hangin’, sim?” he said, his smile growing with hers as she registered the public show of affection.

 

Her eyes found yours, and her expression was so bright and humored that it was like you weren’t allowed to feel anything but friendliness as she said, “Clearly we have _a lot_ to catch up on.”

 

You followed her into the house as Toriel asked, “Has it been too much trouble handling the block party?”

 

“Nah, it’s been fun,” Simone reassured.  Her living room was a mess of streamers, bags full of confetti, various banners, and party favors.  She responded to Toriel’s doubtful look by chirping, “Organized chaos!”

 

Tyler and Frisk had moved to the couch, where the teen still seemed to be catching the child up on everything that had happened.  Again, you were surprised at how gentle and restrained Frisk’s motions were.

 

“Tyler, honey, you wanna say hi to everyone?”

 

He sheepishly looked over from his seat, not meeting anyone’s eyes.  “Hi everyone.”

 

Simone gestured to you and added, “This is our new friend, Anaya.  Is it ok if she hangs out with us tonight?”

 

He finally looked at you, _right_ at you.  In fact, it was an intensity you weren’t prepared for, but just as it occurred to you to feel uncomfortable, you suddenly felt…fine.  Just fine.  In an unfamiliar house with unfamiliar people, you felt fine.  And then he looked away, down toward a silent Flowey, and murmured, “Hi Anaya.”

 

You barely had time to wonder about what had just passed between you and Tyler before Simone was saying, “How’s school prep going?”

 

Toriel suddenly slumped and pinched her snout, groaning, “Do not get me started.”

 

“Ha!  See, I _knew_ you’d be tied up.  Tyler can’t wait to start back up in a week.  Right honey?”

 

He glanced at Toriel and nodded.

 

Simone smiled at him, then clapped her hands, rubbed them together and said, “Ok.  We gotta move the goods.”

 

“We must smuggle the merchandise.”

 

“we gotta liquefy our assets.”

 

Simone, Toriel, and Sans all chuckled together, and you were stricken by the reminder that they were all so close.  Maybe that would have made a different version of you feel lonely, but now, before you knew what you were saying, the weirdness that had been dictating your actions for the last couple days took over.

 

“We gotta run the contraband.”

 

They all turned to you, then Simone grinned bigger than ever and repeated, “I _definitely_ like her already!  Okay, alright, Anaya and Sans, you’re on decorations.  We’ll get the food.  And there’s still a few folding chairs I wanted to get outta the garage, but I’ll get the muscle on that.”

 

“Sounds good!” Toriel chirped on her way to the kitchen.

 

You and Sans started picking up banners and confetti, and you quietly asked him, “Is she the muscle?”

 

He blinked.  “huh?  oh no, she was talking about—”

 

“ _Baby_ , are you ready to go yet?!” Simone suddenly shouted up the stairs.  “Everybody’s here!”

 

You heard a deep male voice reply, “Oh, golly, I must not have heard them all come in.”

 

Footsteps shuffled above you, then down the stairs, and you saw Simone smile affectionately at someone out of view.

 

“Really?  With all the fuss we were making?”

 

“I was trying to tie this…”  His voice grew clearer.  “I still can’t quite…dear, if you could—”

 

“Oh, honestly, come here.”

 

She beckoned him down, and on the bottom banister you saw a massive white paw appear, then a massive white foot, and then the rest of him, huge and horned and familiar, came into the entryway, a tie tangled helplessly around his neck.

 

“The fella on YouTube makes it look so easy,” he apologized.

 

“The ‘fella on YouTube’ doesn’t have hands the size of baseball mitts,” she giggled back.  She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach him, deftly fixing his tie before pulling him down by his floppy ears to kiss him.

 

You stared.  You couldn’t even think to try _not_ to stare.  Seeing him there in person, big enough to fill the hallway and rubbing his neck bashfully as Simone pulled away from him, was the most unexpected way you could have ever met him.

 

He turned toward you as Simone started to focus on straightening his blonde mane.  He smiled kindly, and from behind you, Frisk ran forward to throw themself at his side, with Tyler following suit to quietly hug his free leg.

 

Asgore, King of Monsters, said, “Howdy!  I don’t believe we’ve met.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O !!! 8O ?? umm, WHOM?????????????
> 
> I'm so excited for you guys to meet Simone and Tyler!! Fun fact, they have existed as OCs in my heart even longer than Naya, like I came up with them like fresh fresh fresh offa playing Undertale. Also, a note about Simone: she is a trans lady! This is something that will be brought up in text organically, of course, but I didn't want to treat it like some big twist, and I want you guys to be able to read her in that context.


	53. Famous by Proximity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY. guess who bought a house
> 
> i bought a jouse. with my jusband jose. real exciting but i'm hella stressed and it's a lot of money to handle?? jeez. i still feel like a baby and Yet: House.
> 
> So I've been busy, sorry sorry, here's this chapter that was originally 15 pages so I turned it into 2 chapter ya'll are gonna hafta WAIT
> 
> [myyyyy tumb b bbblr](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

You were frozen.  You had questions.

 

Simone didn’t leave much room for awkwardness, as she immediately put a hand on Asgore’s chest, pointed to you and explained, “This is that girl we’ve heard so much about!  She’s gotten really,  _ really _ close to everyone.”  Her tone turned suggestive enough to make you want to sink into the floor.

 

Asgore didn’t pick up on her mischief.  He slapped an enormous paw to his horns, saying, “Oh!  Of course, of course, you’re...Anaya, correct?”

 

Something about hearing such an imposing figure--a  _ king _ \--say your name made the whole situation even stranger, so it took you longer than it should have to realize he was offering a hand.  You looked at him, and... _ wow _ was he big.  He was your height plus half and more than three times your width.  You’d gotten used to being around Toriel, but he was different.  There was a space to his shoulders, a curl to his horns, an age to his face that just made him  _ different. _

 

You took his hand, and yours was completely swallowed up in soft, gentle pads.  “That’s me,” you said, your voice sounding particularly unimpressive.

 

Instead of shaking it, he placed his other hand over yours and gave you a smile so warm, you weren’t prepared for it.  “Asgore,” he said.  “It’s really a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Uh...likewise?”

 

He chuckled, released you, and turned to Sans to say, “Good to have you all home!”

 

“good to be back,” he said with a shrug and a smile.  “can’t wait to catch up on every- _ king _ we missed.”

 

Simone snorted.  Asgore blinked, took a moment, then nodded and sighed, “ _ Oh _ , right, because it’s me.  A joke.  Yes.  Good one.”

 

“You got it quicker this time!” Simone teased.  She took his arm and started leading him out--with Frisk and Tyler still plastered to his legs--and said, “Now c’mon, we gotta start loading the chairs or we’ll be late.”

 

“Right, okay, you’re right.  Would you kids like to help?”

 

From their places sitting on his feet, they nodded, and before walking out the door he looked behind you; Flowey was still placed on the couch.  He’d been silent all night, looking at Frisk’s phone with a morose expression, and he still didn’t glance up when Asgore addressed him.

 

“It’s good to see you too, Flowey.”

 

The flower seemed to put even more effort into ignoring, his frown tightening as he brought the phone closer to his blossom.  Asgore’s smile dimmed just a fraction, but then the four of them were out the door.

 

You had  _ questions. _

 

“What the heck, man.”

 

Sans raised a brow at you.  “what what the heck?”

 

“What the  _ heck, _ man, what the…”  You glanced back at Flowey--who was still trying very hard to remain an outsider--and hissed, “ _ This is King friggin’ Asgore’s house? _ ”

 

“well it’s simone’s house, but--”

 

“And King Asgore,” you pressed on, “is pulling an  _ us? _ ”

 

“an us?”

 

“You know.”  You gestured between the two of you.

 

“you mean like with simone…?”

 

“You totally  _ definitely _ didn’t tell me about him and Simone, definitely for sure.”  You were glancing around the living room and finally noticing portraits of Simone, Tyler and Asgore in varying combinations.  “Definitely did not.”

 

“oh shit, really?  sorry, sorry, that must’ve caught you off guard, babe, i’m--”

 

“Like are they married?  Should I mention it?  Is it no big deal, is it a public thing, cuz I never like heard about it on the news or whatever but I honestly don’t pay that much attention to begin with so I could’ve just missed it honestly but like he’s the  _ king _ and I guess I just didn’t expect--”

 

“naya, woah.   _ woah _ .”  He steered you into the entryway, out of sight of Flowey, a somewhat puzzled smile on his face.  “slow down.  ok.  no they’re not married, yes they’re public, you can say whatever you want about it and  _ nobody’s _ gonna be offended.”

 

You realized you were rambling, which you knew could make you look crazy.  You took a breath and reassured him, “Look, I’m not freaking out or anything, it’s cool, I was just...surprised?”

 

“right.  sorry.  my bad.”

 

“And I wanna make sure I don’t step on any toes, or stumble into any drama or anything.”

 

“right right.”

 

“And I am  _ super _ freaking curious about them.”

 

He paused, then snorted out a laugh at your now-fascinated expression.

 

“Cuz like...it’s kinda juicy, right?”

 

“ _ juicy? _ ” he snickered.

 

“He’s a  _ king _ , Sans.  That’s some  _ juice _ .  I mean it’s one thing when Loser McGee here gets with the cute monster comedian--”

 

“you mean when the fat skeleton lands a hot flesh-babe?”

 

“...I call you cute, and you call me a flesh-babe?”

 

“a  _ hot _ one.”

 

The fact that every distressed conversation you’d had with him since arriving in Ebott had ended in banter was probably a good sign.  Or a sign that you were processing  _ nothing _ , but you’d take this over panic.

 

It was in the midst of your giggling that Toriel finally emerged from the kitchen, arms full of covered dishes.  She glanced at you two, then the door, and said, “So I take it you met Asgore?”

 

“Yeah.  He is very, very tall.”

 

Her mouth was pinched with just a hint of distaste as she replied, “The tallest.”

 

* * *

Driving into town, the streets were clogged with crowds of humans and monsters who all seemed to be heading in the same direction that you were.  Even after all the jokes and laughter with Sans, the closer you got, the more anxious you became.  You couldn’t help searching for familiar faces, for anyone to avoid, for your old friends, for your parents, for…

 

Sans quietly took your hand.  He kept his smiling face forward, but his pupils slid toward you and he gave you a squeeze.  You took a breath.

 

Toriel parked and the three of you started unloading, quickly meeting up with Simone, Asgore, Tyler, and Frisk and Flowey, each holding folding chairs and decorations.  Other humans and monsters crowded around the trucks to help, and Simone bustled at the head of the group, looking stressed for the first time all night while saying, “Okay, we’re late, we’re just a little late, so let’s hustle!”

 

Main street had been roped off for the party.  There were booths with games and treats set up along the sidewalks, a few bars and restaurants had their doors open, and at one end of the street was a stage.  You brought the folding chairs to place in rows before the stage, and placed the buffet items at tables to the side of it.

 

But keeping yourself busy didn’t make you any less weary.  The party-goers thickened the longer you worked, and you scanned each new wave coming in.  It was cold and totally dark once all the chairs had been set up, and by that time the party was packed with human and monster celebrators.  You wished you could appreciate the feeling of friendliness and solidarity as people of every type lingered and laughed, but you were still searching.

 

You finished unwrapping the platters on the dessert table, and spent a moment staring beyond it.  You were just making sure.  You were just checking that, yes, still no signs of familiarity, or family, or long, dark hair…

 

“coffee?”

 

Sans appeared at your side with a steaming styrofoam cup.

 

“Creamer?”

 

“yup.  way too much of it,” he chuckled.

 

You accepted it, took a sip, and felt yourself relax as his arm wrapped naturally around your waist.  You were a little warmer, inside and out.

 

“NAYA!!”

 

With incredible dexterity, Sans took the coffee back right before you were tackled in a hug.  You grunted as Papyrus crushed you against his chest, and through the gaps in his arms you could see Undyne and Alphys close behind.

 

“You’re here!!” Undyne cheered, snatching you up in another hug just as Papyrus released you.

 

“G-glad you guys could make it!”

 

“ _ My ribs _ ,” you groaned, and Undyne let you go with a laugh.

 

“Where’s everybody else?” she asked.  “The kids, and Toriel, and As-goof?”

 

“stage.”  Sans pointed, and sure enough you saw Asgore hanging lights under Simone’s supervision, with Toriel watching over Tyler, Frisk and Flowey as they jumped on and off the stage.  “making sure everything’s perfect.”

 

“Right,” Alphys snorted, rolling her eyes.  “Because heaven forbid there’s even  _ one _ thing out of place.”

 

“Remember last year?” Undyne grinned.  “When the mic kept getting all that weird distortion?”

 

“IT WAS SO COOL!!”  Papyrus put his hands on his face and beamed at the stage.  “NAPSTABLOOK EVEN MIXED IT INTO THE SONG, RIGHT THERE ON THE SPOT!”

 

You were listening in confusion.  “Wait, is there gonna be a concert or something?”

 

“ _ Ooh _ yes,” Alphys confirmed, with another dramatic eye roll.

 

“Who is--”

 

Your question was cut off by a sudden commotion in the crowd behind you.  You turned to see arms waving in their air, you heard people squealing, and Sans, Alphys, and Undyne all gave groans, while Papyrus let out an excited gasp.

 

Coming through the sea of people, parting them with no effort and without the need for security guards, came a face you recognized instantly.  He wore a fur coat and stiletto heels; his hair had its characteristic perfect sheen; his coiled arms waved and blew kisses from metallic lips; and huge sunglasses covered his eyes in spite of the darkness.  Upon seeing your group, he wiggled his fingers in a goodbye for his fans, smiled, and started sauntering toward you.

 

“No fucking way,” you muttered.

 

You knew who Mettaton was.  Of  _ course _ you did.  You heard his songs on the radio, you saw his music videos reposted everywhere you looked, you followed him on Instagram, his concerts sold out within seconds.  He was  _ huge _ .  And going from meeting a king to a celebrity felt like a bit too much to process in one night.

 

Sans must have felt you tense.  He leaned in and whispered, “say the word, and we abort.  i’ve got visuals on two escape routes to the south and south-west.”

 

“ _ Uuuh, _ ” you whispered back.

 

“Sunglasses?  Really?”  Alphys was folding her arms and raising a brow as he got closer.

 

“And the coat?  Do you even get cold??” Undyne added.

 

“YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL!  SO HANDSOME!!” Papyrus gushed over them.

 

“You’re as charming as ever, Pappy,” Mettaton laughed with an ever-so-slightly modulated voice.  Pulling off his sunglasses with a practiced hair-flip, he pouted at the other two.  “You’ve always had an eye for  _ fashion _ .”

 

You heard running footfalls, and suddenly Frisk was sprinting toward Mettaton.  The robot gasped and held his chin as they stopped before him, quickly gestured to their outfit and struck a pose.

 

“Turn!” he instructed, marveling at Frisk’s style from every angle and remarking, “Exquisite, darling!  The pattern, the shoes, just  _ stunning! _  I simply must get a hold of your designer!”

 

They started to laugh as they completed their turn, then froze upon seeing you.  Oh no.  They were leading him over, his smile was shifting from them to you and fuck, fuck, why hadn’t you thought to dress up?  Why didn’t this possibility occur to you?  Did you stink?  Of course you stank.  You were just a stinky frumpy human about to meet the most famous monster in the world and he was going to wrinkle his robot nose and look down at you and say “You  _ stink _ .”

 

Frisk had already been introducing you, and the heat in your face rose to a boil as he looked between you and Sans, eyebrows raising.

 

“Anaya?” he said, and once again, your name coming from a very, very important mouth sounded like a joke.

 

“Here,” you squeaked.  Undyne burst out laughing, and from beside you, Sans tried to suppress a snort.  “Yup.  I mean yup, I’m Anaya, you’re Mettaton?  Wow.  Wow, uh, I like your...stuff?  All the stuff you do?  All of it, I like it.  Wow.”

 

Mettaton’s grin kept stretching as you rambled.  “I love her already!” he told Frisk.  Without you offering it, he reached down and took your hand and brought it to his own chest, subsequently pulling you closer.  You could feel the sweat practically gush from your armpits as he crooned, “You clearly have  _ impeccable  _ taste!”

 

“Don’t feed the beast, Naya,” Alphys sighed, with Undyne still cackling into her hands.

 

“So wait.”  Mettaton kept holding your hand as he squinted back toward the others and said, “You’re telling me this  _ vision _ is with…?”

 

Everyone looked at Sans.

 

“ _ bone _ -jour,” he said.

 

Mettaton’s lip quirked in a way that could’ve been impressed or disgusted.  He whispered to you, obviously enough for Sans to hear, “You’ll have to divulge how he managed to woo a  _ lovely _ human such as yourself.  But for now!”  He snapped back, putting his sunglasses back on and throwing back the hem of his coat in the same fluid motion.  “The stage awaits!  Tata, darlings.”

 

“BREAK A LEG, METTATON!” Papyrus cheered as he strutted away.  “NOT ACTUALLY!!  IT’S A WEIRD THING TO SAY, I KNOW, BUT-APPARENTLY-UP-HERE-IT-MEANS-GOOD-LUCK-SO-BREAK-BOTH-OF-THEM-I-GUESS!”

 

“So that’s Mettaton,” Alphys deadpanned.

 

“He’s like, the estranged cousin of the group,” Undyne added.  “We won’t hear from him for months then it’s just like ‘Oh hey guess Mettaton met the president, that’s cool.’”

 

**His concerts go hard though.**

 

“SO HARD.”

 

You were just staring weakly at your hand.  Sans cocked his head and checked, “you alright?  too much?”

 

“A lot, yeah.  Mettaton just called me a vision, so.”

 

“He calls EVERYONE visions!” Undyne guffawed.  “It’s like, does he not think anyone’s real??”

 

“‘Kay sure but I’m still never washing this hand again.”

 

Undyne and Alphys groaned, but Sans laughed, and quickly everyone’s attention was diverted to grabbing food from the buffet and arguing about exactly  _ how _ hard Mettaton’s concerts typically went.

 

“How do you know all these famous people, dude?” you asked Sans as you grabbed a cinnamon roll.  “You know  _ so many famous people _ .

 

“alphys and mettaton are actually really close,” he explained.  He glanced at the doctor, who was still seeing how far her eyes could go back in her head when talking about Mettaton.  “she teases him, but they go way back.  also i worked with him for a minute.  my comedy act and his...uh...whatever he was doing at the time?  they were at the same hotel.”

 

Him saying that so casually made you pause.  You stared at him for a moment before asking, “Ok.  Wait.  Are...are you...famous?  You have to tell me now if you’re famous cuz that’d be a big thing to just throw in there.”

 

“nah.”  He winked.  “just know a lotta folks.”

  
And like an omen, that statement held true throughout the potluck.  While you ate, monster after monster and human after human stopped to greet Sans and the others.  You moved through so many introductions.  You shook such a variety of hands.  You heard Sans whip out every greeting-based pun in his repertoire.  It was surreal, being in the city you’d grown up in, yet being a stranger to all these new, friendly faces.  Your town no longer, this was  _ his _ home, and  _ his  _ crowd, and even with his arm around you all night and constant little checks of “you good?” you were feeling the strangeness closing back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on a scale of hard to flaccid, how do you think his concerts go


	54. Not So Good in the Naya-hood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh ohh!
> 
> [come over here where i take 5 days to reply to every ask](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)

When people were starting to gather by the stage for the concert, you let go of Sans.  You said, “Shouldn’t have had that second coffee.”

 

He snorted.  “go.  pee like the wind.”

 

“Right.  Wouldn’t wanna miss a second of your old pal Mettaton.”

 

His smile followed you as you navigated through the crowd, toward the restrooms, and once you were finally out of that crowd, you were able to breathe.

 

It wasn’t panic, not yet, but it was a lot of new names and faces crossing in and out of your mind.  You hadn’t met this many people at once since...college?  Yeah, not since those futile getting-to-know you questions professors always asked the first day of freshman year.  For the longest time it’d just been you.  The only names you needed to know were those of your co-workers, and even then, you had nametags to cheat off of.

 

_ Then again _ , you thought,  _ better new faces than old ones. _

 

You finished and started washing your hands.  Two women about your age came in, laughing and gushing about the concert.  You didn’t look up, but when one of them spoke, your stomach dropped.

 

“Wait,  _ Naya? _ ”

 

Your head snapped up.  The water kept running.  Of course.  Of  _ course _ .  This was inevitable, wasn’t it?  That you’d be recognized.

 

Your mind raced through the dusty catalogue of your memories as you turned to the women.  You went to school with them, and...that was the end of your recognition.  Just acquaintances.  Old ones.

 

“Oh my god, Naya!”  The first woman ran forward to give you a hug.  You stiffly hugged back.  Way too friendly, but the smell of alcohol as she pulled away gave some explanation.  “It’s been  _ forever. _  Freshman year, right?”

 

“Uh...yeah.  Hey.”  You smiled awkwardly back.  You prayed they needed to pee more than they needed to chat.

 

“How’ve you been?”

 

“Oh.  Y’know.  Just...kickin’ it.  Working and stuff.”  You rubbed your neck.  “Left town for a bit.”

 

“Cool!”  She beamed.  “Welcome home!”

 

“Th-thanks?  I--”

 

The woman wasn’t really paying attention.  She turned to her friend and said, “You remember Naya, right?”

 

“Not...really?”  She looked much less enthused about this sudden encounter.  She shrugged at you.  “I mean, like, sorry.”

 

“Physics?  Freshman year?”  The first looked more and more exasperated as the second shook her head, until she sighed and pressed, “Y’know, she and Professor Rodriguez were a thing?”

 

You stopped breathing.

 

You stopped thinking.

 

The second woman gasped.  “Oh,  _ shit _ , that was you?  I thought it was just a rumor!”

 

“That was, like, the greatest thing, wasn’t it?”  She turned back to you with a devious grin.  “We were all  _ so _ freaking jealous.”

 

“Shit, I totally see it now.”  

 

Both of them leered at you with red cheeks and glossy eyes.

 

“Like, that took balls, dude.”

 

“Did you ever get caught?”

 

Their smiles were stretched so taut, you could see every tooth.

 

“ _ Yeah _ , what even happened there?”

 

“Cuz, like, honestly we were all totally rooting for you two.”

 

You were hyper aware of the cold sweat on your brow and the irregular beat of your soul and the exit, right there, just past these two, and all you’d have to do was leave.  They were drunk, they were at a party, what did they care?  You didn’t even know their names.  Just leave, just go, don’t say anything, don’t wait, don’t speak, don’t speak, don’t speak.

 

“We broke up.”

 

They nodded at your hollow voice, because right, of course.  That was a normal thing.  Just two people.  Breaking up.

 

“Damn.  That sucks.”

 

“Good times though, right?”

 

_ Leave _ .

 

And this time, you listened.  You pushed past them without another word, ignored their indignancies, and were back out in the crowd.  A crowd that was much, much louder than before, and closer, and stranger.  Your eyes started to sting as you searched.  Where had you even left him?  Where had you come from?  You tried to get through, but there were so many people, and they kept getting in your way.  It was like struggling through a bog.  The music started, an excited MC cried out into a microphone.  It was so  _ loud _ , so  _ tight _ , you felt it all press against you and all your mind could think was  _ leave, leave, leave. _

 

Finally, you saw Undyne above the crowd, and your eyes flashed down from her to find Sans.  He was smiling at the stage.  He turned and caught your eye through the crowd as you struggled through the last few people, purposeful and desperate, and the smile fell.

 

“naya, what’s--”

 

“Can we go?”

 

The words had barely left your mouth before he pulled you toward him, wrapped both arms around you, and brought you to a different space.  You lurched.  Your mind experienced a startled blip as the concert crowd disappeared and the music became distant, but that feeling was nothing compared to the relief of being somewhere quieter.  Even better was the smell of him, his arms around you, and the residual magic crinkling where your bodies made contact.

 

You didn’t speak as you focused on taking calming breaths, and he didn’t let go.  He’d dropped you both on the very outskirts of the party, where it was dark and cold and populated only by smokers.

 

“Thanks,” you whispered.

 

“told you i’d have an escape plan.”

 

You’d managed to stave off the tears, and the breathing was helping.  You let out a shaky sigh and pulled back.  You kept your head down as he watched you.

 

“I didn’t even make it to midnight,” you mumbled.

 

“midnight’s gonna happen if you’re at the the party or not.”

 

“I wanted to see Mettaton perform.”

 

“i  _ know _ the guy.  i’ll get you a private concert.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

He quietly put a hand to your face and tried to meet your gaze, but you’d started sniffling.

 

“I’m so sorry that I’m…”  That you were what?  “...th-that I can’t…”  That you couldn’t what?  “...that y-you’re stuck with…”  Stuck with who?

 

_ That was you? _

 

You hurriedly reached up to wipe your eyes.

 

“naya, it’s ok.  i’m not mad.  i want to be with  _ you _ , not at some party.”

 

_ We broke up. _

 

You choked softly.  It was all bearing down on you.  The familiarity; the strangeness; the history.  You  _ hadn’t _ been processing it.  It had just been waiting for the right moment to converge.

 

“lemme take you home.”

 

Home?

 

_ Welcome home! _

 

This home that barely remembered you.  That you didn’t  _ want _ to remember you.

 

Silently, he waited out your hiccuped breathing, eventually pulling you back against him and rocking you gently.  You listened to the muffled music and kept your eyes squeezed shut as your mind raced.  You didn’t have a job.  You were more or less crashing at a friend’s place indefinitely.  You didn’t have a plan.  You just jumped in, both feet, and gave yourself no time.  And now you were here.  You were home.  There was no taking that back.

 

So how were you going to make it work?

 

“you cold?” he eventually asked.

 

You sniffed, took a breath and answered, “A little.”

 

“wanna go home yet?”  A hand moved to your hair and started stroking.  “i’ll give you a heads up before jumping this time.”

 

Part of you did.  You wanted nothing more than him, a lot of blankets and a bad movie, you wanted to hide inside and put off the process for another night, but that part remained silent as you said, “Can we just take a walk?”

 

He held you closer for a moment and replied, “sure.”

 

You joined hands and went silently, aimlessly.  The winter air dried your tears, cleared your nose, and cooled your cheeks.  The music grew softer and softer as you wandered the nearly empty city.  Main street was at the very edge of downtown, so it didn’t take much walking for the buildings to thin, and you could still just hear the music when the pavement gave way to a park.  You took to the running trails automatically, no longer sniffling, breathing now even.  Sans hadn’t said anything, but you couldn’t miss the concerned looks he kept throwing you.  You looked around at the bare trees and frosted grass, and instead of going back to the one memory you were determined to forget, you went back further.

 

“There used to be a fireworks show at this park.  Every 4th of July.”

 

“still is.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“yup.  went with frisk last summer.”

 

You watched your feet crunch along the icy gravel.  “Last summer.  Feels like forever ago, doesn’t it?”

 

“you can say that again.”

 

You kept going, up the natural incline that living in a city built at a mountain’s base offered.

 

“We’d always try to get the highest view we could,” you said.  “If you got just the right angle, you could see fireworks going off throughout the valley.  All at once.”

 

You turned to get that familiar view.  You could see the glow of the concert through the buildings and still, just barely, you could feel its vibrations.  Past that was the ocean, reflecting the crescent moon above and the stars surrounding it.

 

Without thinking, you sat down right on the frozen trail.  Sans hesitated for just a moment before following suit.  You were looking at Ebott, but you were sure he was still looking at you.

 

“I missed a lot of it.”

 

You waited several moments.  You felt the silence between songs, then you felt the bass start up again.

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

 

Sans thought before responding.  “naya, i don’t think...that you have to feel one way about all this.”

 

“But it’s...so much.  It’s good stuff and bad stuff.  And it’s all mixing together, and cancelling each other out...and I can’t think straight.  One minute I’m happy, and then there’s just...one little thing, and it reminds me of everything, and it’s like a snowball of bad rolling down a hill at me.”

 

You felt his eyes on you; you saw their glow flicker.  “did something happen?  at the party?”

 

“I ran into some old classmates.”

 

He tensed.

 

“They asked about Rachel.”

 

You felt a buzz from him and saw a brief flash of blue from the corner of your eye.

 

“They didn’t mean anything by it.  I didn’t know them that well.”

 

“then what business did they have--”

 

“I told them we broke up.  We  _ broke up _ .  Like...I used those words.”  You watched the spotlights of the concert flash and roll across the sky.  “Like that’s all it was.  A breakup.”

 

His silence was heavier, like he wanted to fill it but didn’t know how.

 

“I was looking for her all night.”

 

You kicked a pebble away from you and watched it bounce down the hill.  Quietly, he said, “i know.”

 

“I realized I’m...not prepared to be here.  At all.  But now that I  _ am _ here I want to make it work, and...and I don’t even know the place anymore.  All those people who knew you, but not me.  It was fucking  _ surreal _ Sans, and then the people who  _ do _ know me only know the parts that are utter  _ shit _ , and I…I’m confused.”

 

“i know you are,” he stressed.  “babe i’m--”

 

“And here’s another little bit of something I realized--” you opened your arms and shook your head helplessly, “--Sans, I don’t know... _ anything _ about you.  Not the technicalities.  I don’t know where you live.  I don’t know where you work.  I don’t know this basic-ass stuff because I didn’t ever really think I’d be a part of your life here until, what, a week ago?”

 

“that’s on me too, naya, i should’ve told you--”

 

“I should’ve  _ asked _ , Sans!”  You let out a frustrated little laugh.  “I should’ve  _ thought _ about this shit!  What am I  _ doing _ , we were in a car together for a  _ whole day _ and I  _ didn’t  _ even  _ ask  _ about--”

 

“i’m sorry.”  

 

You quieted and stared at him.  

 

“i’m so sorry.”

 

“...For what?”

 

A few breaths, then he murmured, “i just...i’m the one who brought you back, naya, and i--”

 

“No.”  You set your mouth in a line, turning toward him.  “Don’t do that.  I  _ came _ back.  I knew.  And I still came, Sans.”

 

“i know, but--”

 

You took his hand, and he fell still.  You brought it to your chest and scooted closer, bearing into him with eyes that were serious and a mind that the cold had made sharp.

 

“You’re the only reason any of this is ok, Sans.  You’re the one making me laugh.  You’re the one who got me out of there.  You’re...the best part of being here.  Because now it’s not my home town, it’s  _ yours _ , and that’s...I’m...I’m taking comfort in that?  I guess?”

 

He just stared at you, bones stark in the moonlight and eyes even starker.

 

“I’m just unloading.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m…” you trailed off.  You looked back and forth between his eyes.  Saying all of it out loud and feeling the chill tingle over your cheeks was making everything clearer, better even, but it was so much weight to pass over to him.  “I’m not in a...uh...super chill state of mind right now.”

 

Another moment of watching you, then he sighed and admitted, “me neither.”

 

That broke your heart.  You raised your other hand to his cheek and pressed against him, not looking away even as he cast his eyes down.  “Tonight was hard,” you said, “but without you it would’ve been impossible.”

 

He hesitated.  When you moved from his cheek to the back of his skull, he relented.  He slumped forward against you, letting his head rest on your shoulder and snorting, “heh.  doesn’t seem like much.”

 

“It’s a lot.  You’re doing a lot, you’re…”  You felt your chest tighten at what you were about to say, even though you knew it was true.  “You’re...my home, Sans?”  

 

His hand stiffened in yours.

 

“And I think that’s one of the things I’m struggling to come to terms with, that so much of this hinges on you, and I don’t want to put that pressure on you but I--”

 

He suddenly tilted up into a kiss, the passion almost catching you off guard even though it quickly subsided into tenderness.  You held your lips against him for several long, quiet beats, and then he broke away with your foreheads touching.  You saw both of your breath turn to vapor between you.

 

“you know i would never have come back without you, right?”

 

“Yeah?” you whispered.

 

When he spoke, it was soft enough that you could hear every motion of his jaw, and he said, “you’re mine too.”

 

Heads still joined, you suddenly heard cheering that was audible even from this far away.  You looked toward the concert to see small fireworks shooting off from the tops of buildings, spotlights going wild, music starting up again even louder than before.

 

“Shit,” you murmured.  “Was that it?”

 

Sans was already checking his phone.  “heh.  whaddya know.”

 

“Dammit, we kissed too early.”

 

“no, no, see that was just the final kiss.”

 

“Well then we’d better…”

 

You looked at each other.  You studied the divots in his face and the shade of his pupils, the precious bit of blue on his cheeks.  You ran a light hand along his jaw as he brought you in, and...you’d never done this before.  Never at New Years.  And it seemed silly, nothing had really changed from 11:59 to 12:00, but somehow, everything was different.  You felt it.  You were sure he did, too.

 

This New Years was a big one.  This kiss was a big one.  There was so much meaning as you pulled away.  There was a promise in his face, and in the way his fingers traced your ear as they moved back through your hair, and in the beating of your own soul.  All the doubt waiting for you in this place and inside yourself couldn’t survive here.  Not in this moment.

 

It was a new year, and for the first time, you weren’t entering it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you also get panic attacks in crowds lemme hERE U SAY AYYYYYYYYYY
> 
> (ayyyyyyy)


	55. A Criminally Short Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update on mod: bought a dang house, got a dang puppy, my real life has been occupying ALLLLL of my time. turns out moving and putting a home together and tending to a [tiny tiny baby little Joanie Jett](https://www.instagram.com/p/BaZfqzPD0xa/?hl=en) and working full time still and staring lovingly at my husband as i think "how am i this lucky" eats up ur fucking schedule.
> 
> this was originally part of a larger chap but?? it felt super weird to have it thrown in with everything else considering the subject matter SO. here's a lil quickie for you guys.

You were dreaming.  Not  _ the  _ dream, no.   _ The _ dream never had any singing.

 

You didn’t recognize the voice, but the song was one you knew well.   _ Leaving On a Jet Plane _ .  The first song you’d played in so long.  The first song you’d taught…

 

Frisk.

 

You were in your room in Toriel’s house, lying flat on your back, and someone was at the window.  You turned your head, blinked, and saw a silhouette darkened by the moonlight streaming through the glass.  The singer.  You knew them.  You didn’t know their voice.

 

“Who are you?”

 

They quieted.  You were adjusting to the darkness, and as they turned toward you, their red eyes seemed to glow.

 

“It’s me.  Frisk.”

 

_ No it’s not _ , dream logic told you.  You weren’t moving.  The world was sideways from your perspective, head pressed to the pillow.  You thought you’d be able to sit up if you wanted, but there was a sharp, firm instinct in your chest that demanded you be still.

 

“Frisk doesn’t sing.”

 

They smiled a smile that didn’t belong to them.  They had one leg bent and braced on the windowsill, the other dangling beneath.  Their back was straight and their hands were folded neatly in their lap.

 

“I suppose you’re right,” they chuckled.  Their voice was hoarse, yet delicate and thoughtful in spite of the misuse.

 

You suddenly heard a low growl, followed by a hiss.  Pickles was at the foot of your bed.  He was licking his lips and arching his back as he glared at not-Frisk.  His eyes burned like green fire in the overexposed dream light.

 

“There’s nothing to fear,” they reassured softly.  “I’m not going to hurt you.  Cross my heart.”

 

“Are you talking to me or the cat?”

 

They laughed at that, a sound that was melodious and flat.

 

A dull ache started throbbing in your head.  You put a hand to it as Pickles dashed under the bed, tail puffed and twitching, and you groaned.

 

“My.”  They tilted their head, smile faltering and gaze intensifying.  “They get brighter every day, don’t they?”

 

You pulled your hand away, squinting, wincing.  You stared at it as broken golden light shone in shards across your palm, flickering with the movement of your eyes.

 

“I’m...dreaming...?”

 

They blinked, redness flashing.  “Of course.”  They hopped down from the windowsill and wove their fingers behind their back, leaning toward you.  “So is Frisk.”

 

“I thought you said you were Frisk.”

 

They smiled at you again.  You felt a fear seed in your stomach that was colder and quieter than any other nightmare had yielded you.  It was a whisper.  A needle of ice.

 

“You know,” they said, “it really is good to be home.  Wouldn’t you say?”

 

“Who are you?”

 

They started stretching, arms above their head first, then below, their neck rolling all the while.  Every motion was a performance.  A careful, practiced display of relaxation.  A trick.

 

“Being away from home...it exhausts me.”  They went up on their tiptoes and smiled at the moon.  “I sleep so much longer.  I speak so much softer.  I see and hear and taste so little.  It’s like being trapped underground, with the earth pressing into my ears, my nose, my mouth…”

 

_ Don’t move _ , the dream hissed.   _ Don’t.   _ **_Move._ **

 

“How fitting, to be back just in time to bring in the new year.”  They raised their arms and grinned, as if cheering.  “And what better way to spend this New Years than with my new friend?”

 

“Where’s Frisk?”  Your voice was much steadier than it should’ve been.

 

“I told you.  Dreaming,” they sighed, turning their gaze back on you.  “You have no idea how tiring it can be.  How it is to go for months without rest.”

 

You still weren’t moving, but you concentrated.  You’d already been halfway there, the room growing just a bit sharper, and you looked at their chest.  Red.  The  _ wrong _ red.  You saw brightness rolling like a fetus in the womb--a small thing, a living thing, surrounded by a red, viscous film.  It was inside out.  It was hideous.  It was wrong, wrong,  _ wrong _ .

 

“I didn’t mean to disturb.  I only came for the view.”  They faced the window, and were once again darkened to a shadow.  “Why don’t you go back to sleep, Anaya?”

 

“I’m already asleep.”

 

They laughed again, childlike and lilting, and resumed their song.  You watched and listened until the last note, and then everything went black.

 

When you woke up to morning streaming in over the mountain, the needle of ice had melted.  You heard Frisk, Toriel and Flowey in the kitchen, Pickles was curled peacefully by your hip, and you couldn’t remember dreaming at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh worm?


	56. And Then They Didn't Go To A Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my laptop died and i lost the original document i was typing this on!! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ it was at like over 400 pages
> 
> shameless plug cuz this is MY GOD DAMN STORY THAT I AM GOD DAMN WRITING AND I CAN DO AS I PLEASE: if you like movies, maybe peep my podcast [Rotten Tomato Soup.](https://rotten-tomato-soup-podcast.tumblr.com/) we choose an actor, take the highest and lowest reviewed movies on rotten tomatoes, and shove em into each other like...like a double calzone. schroedinger's calzone. it's on [soundcloud ](https://soundcloud.com/user-891528176/episode-1-chris-pratt) and i'm pretty sure it's now on itunes so y'know. if you want to hear me try and be a funny francis.

The Hoepfulls were spending their New Years Day as lazily as possible, and you--along with a more than cooperative Sans--were happy to do the same.  There was work to be done, things to confront, but after such an emotionally draining night, you needed the break.  You stayed in pajamas and watched reruns of Christmas specials, sipped hot chocolate, and didn’t bring up your meltdown.

 

But you didn’t stop thinking about it.  A TV-edited version of  _ Die Hard  _ played out as you quietly made a game plan.  What to tackle first.  How to prioritize.  It was easy to let yourself strategize about the difficult parts of your life with Sans’ arm around you, Frisk and Flowey sitting on the floor eating popcorn, and Toriel smirking at the bleeped out language coming from Bruce Willis.  It was safe here.

 

Sans left that night with the promise of an early start the next day.  When morning came, you felt a swell of determination.  You were going to leave the house, and you were going to be ok.  You had a  _ plan _ .

 

“Where are you off to so early?” Toriel asked as you aggressively tied your boots at the door.

 

“Got plans.”  And you  _ weren’t _ going to chicken out on them.  “Sans’ll be here soon.”

 

“Ugh, he’s been here  _ every freaking day _ .”  Flowey rolled his eyes so hard it sent his blossom in a swivel.

 

“Oh don’t worry.  We’re not sticking around.”  You stood, shoved your arms in the sleeves of your coat and gave the Hoepfulls a short nod.  “Going out.”

 

Even though nobody had pointed out your early departure from the New Year’s Eve party, you had a feeling they knew you weren’t having the easiest time.  Frisk and Toriel gave you encouraging thumbs up, while Flowey just scoffed, “Well, good.  Won’t have to look at your annoying faces all day.”

 

Returning the thumbs up, you threw the front door open.

 

Sans blinked with one hand raised to knock.

 

“Cool,” you said.  You swept past him and shut the door behind you.

 

He was still standing there.  “uh.  good timing?”

 

You turned and faced him, arms out, expression firm.  “Ok, let’s go.”

 

“go?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“what’s the rush?”

 

With that same tight frown, you marched back to him and grabbed his arms.  He almost looked startled.  “I’ve got all this nerve built up and if we don’t go now it’s gonna leave and I’m never gonna get out of the house.”

 

Your urgency was starting to reflect on his face as he said, “o-ok, where are we--”

 

“Your house first.”

 

“first?”

 

“I’ve got a whole list.  C’mon, zappy zap us on over there.  Running low on nerve juice”

 

He raised a brow.  “babe.  love the enthusiasm, but can i be honest real quick?”

 

“Yeah just real quick.”

 

“having trouble keeping up.”

 

Your face cracked a bit.  You paused, and said, “I...I know.  I’m sorry.  I’m just...powering through the weirdness right now.”  You gripped his arms.  “Trust me?  Please?

 

And you were displaced.  You automatically pulled closer to him as the nanosecond long drop took the breath out of you, and you squeezed your eyes shut to stave off the nausea.

 

“you good?”

 

You quickly blinked up at him.  “Yup.  Yup, totally-- _ hggh. _ ”

 

He finally let the concern show on his face when you doubled over.  “jeez, naya, breathe.”

 

You ignored him, hands braced on your knees as you panted through the wave of sickness, tossed the hair out of your face, and looked up at your destination.

 

You were much closer to the mountain now--that had to have been quite the jump--in a neighborhood that was more tightly packed than Toriel’s.  The houses were smaller, too.  The one before you was a compact, two story brick house with a simple yard.  The only standout detail was the fact that there were two mailboxes, and one of them was clearly homemade.  That one was labeled “Sans.”

 

“babe, i know you’re determined to do...uh...whatever we’re doing,” Sans was saying, “but can you slow down?  please?”

 

“Can we go inside?”  You were already walking toward the door.

 

He watched you for a moment, sighed, and followed you in.

 

The inside was as simple as the outside.  There were a few boxes, but most of the house had apparently been left behind.  There was a couch, a TV, and like Toriel’s walls, the skeleton brothers had up several portraits of friends.  The living room opened up to a kitchen, which opened up to the backyard.  It looked like the whole ground floor was just one spacious room.

 

A squeaky meow greeted you as soon as you stepped in.  Catsup trotted down the stairs, belly swinging and eyes squinting.  She immediately started purring and rubbing up against you as you stood in the entryway, hands on your hips as you regarded the space.

 

“Your place.”

 

“my place.”  Sans closed the door behind you and stopped at your side.

 

“Cool.  Cool cool cool, now I know where my boyfriend lives, excellent.  Just you and Papyrus then?”

 

“yup.  bedrooms’re upstairs if you wanna--ope.  ok then.”

 

You’d already started up the stairs before he could finish.  The first door was a bathroom, then down the hall was a door covered in caution tape, stickers, and a “DO NOT ENTER” sign that had the “NOT” crossed out and a heart drawn underneath.  Probably Papyrus.  You went for the second, undecorated door.

 

“wait, wait, it’s a mess, haven’t had the chance to clean since we--”

 

You paused with your hand on the knob.  A little smile found you, and you glanced back at him to say, “Remember the first time you came to my apartment?  When I was all embarrassed?”

 

He froze, then slowly the concern melted to a smile.  You shared that remembered moment, the weirdness in the air evaporating a bit, and then you went into his room.

 

It  _ was _ messy.  You saw a lot of familiar sights--unmade bed, unshaded lamp--and then you picked up other details.  Socks nearly covering the floor; a few tacked up children's drawings; light-blocking curtains, currently open; and a desk covered with books, pens, papers, and various charts and notes taped above it, which were bleeding out to almost cover the wall.

 

Sans started kicking the socks into a pile, chuckling, “h-heh.  sorry.  don’t get much traffic in here.”

 

“How the tables have turned,” you said, picking your way through to look out his window.  Like an inversion of your room at Toriel’s, it looked over the houses toward the seafront.

 

“your apartment wasn’t this bad,” he chuckled back.

 

When Catsup jumped up to the windowsill and continued butting her head on you, you gave a decisive nod, then turned to the door so fast the cat nearly lost her balance.

 

“Ok, next stop.”

 

“what?  we just--babe, wait a--”

 

You didn’t stop, until he grabbed your arm just before you were out in the hall.

 

“naya,” he said, more insistently.  “hold on.”

 

You were jittery.  You wanted to keep moving, but the gentle pressure of his fingers made you look back at him.

 

“are...are you sure everything’s ok?”  His pupils flitted between yours.  “you’re acting kinda...just...i don’t know what you’re trying to do.”

 

You started bouncing back and forth on your feet.  Your eyes searched the room as the antsy energy broiled through you, until finally, Sans set his brow in a determined line and pulled you back toward the bed.  He sat you down.

 

“talk to me,” he said.

 

“I’m worried,” you answered, “that if I say it out loud, my brain will realize it’s a bad idea and I’ll just ask you to take us home so we can play Mario Kart and eat junk food because that’s really,  _ really  _ what I’d rather be doing.”

 

“ok, then...what  _ are _ we doing?”

 

He’d kept his hands in yours, and you stared down at them as you heaved a sigh.  “I’m...I want to hit my favorite places.  Like...like all coffee shops and arcades I used to go to.  And stuff.”

 

He blinked, the worry ebbing.  “oh.  that’s it?”

 

“Yeah, but think about it.”  You looked out the window.  “Those’re the risky places.  Those’re the places that’re making my mind go, ‘no, dingus, bad idea, you will  _ absolutely _ see people who recognize you.’”

 

“then why do you wanna go?”

 

“Because…because I lived my whole life here, and obviously it wasn’t all bad.  Not until the last bit.  There’s so many  _ good _ memories, but…”

 

He tilted his head, watching you.  “...but the bad ones are bigger.  right?”

 

“Exactly.”  You paused to let Catsup jump up to your lap and make herself comfortable.  “So I thought, like...if you and me saw these places  _ together _ …”  You shrugged, blushing.  “Then I dunno.  Maybe I’d be able to remember the good stuff without it leaving a bad aftertaste.”

 

“aw.”

 

“Yeah, ok, I know it’s corny.  But also you’ve got a built in escape route, so?  Two birds one stone, I guess.”

 

He entwined your fingers.  Your flush deepened as he raised your hands to his face, gave you a tender look and said, “cool.  i like this plan.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“yeah.”  He stood, pulling you up with him.  “plus: backstory.”

 

You snorted.  “Like, on me?”

 

“yup.  where’d lil naya spend her time?  that’s what i wanna know.”

 

The weirdness kept subsiding, and the little voice in your head telling you this was a bad idea was nearly silent.  You smiled at him and said, “Don’t get too excited.  I’ve always been this boring.”

 

“nah, you’re cool.  probably not cool enough to take me to a library, but still, pretty cool.”

 

“For the last fucking time, I don’t hate books.”

 

He grinned and pulled you closer, giving you a kiss on the cheek.  “sure you don’t.”

 

You started walking back outside as you looked up your next location.  He told you he knew the valley well enough that just an address would enable him to teleport there.

 

“You like breakfast tacos?” you asked, looking at your phone.

 

“holy shit.   _ breakfast _ tacos?”

 

You grinned, he glanced at the address, and whisked you off.  The jumps were getting easier and easier, but it was like missing the last step every time.  Your body still lurched, but at least you weren’t nauseous.

 

It looked like the same people who worked at the restaurant five years ago still ran it, but nobody recognized you.  The whole time you waited for your food, you tried to let nostalgia take you, you tried to ignore the doorbell tinkling every time a new person walked in, and you forced yourself to take a seat facing away from the door.  Facing Sans.  But the nerves kept creeping up your neck,  and you started to feel like a teenager again, laughing with your friends as you skipped first period, and you wished that could be a good feeling, a good memory, but it still just  _ wasn’t _ and--

 

“ho.  ly.  fuck.”

 

Your food had arrived.  Sans was grinning down at the tortillas stuffed with eggs and bacon and even one with syrupy waffles.

 

“thanks lil naya,” he said.  He grabbed a taco and started eating, but you reached out to stop his hand.  He raised a brow at you.

 

“You’re doing it wrong.”  You slid a bowl of queso toward him and said, “Dunk that shit.”

 

He did, and you laughed at the inappropriate moaning sound he made, and...there it was.   _ There _ was the nostalgia.

 

What started as a risky idea quickly took the turn you’d hoped it would.  Everything that was old was still tinged with badness, but Sans was the light that burned it all away.  You showed him the antique shop that you always looked around but rarely purchased from.  You went to a nickel arcade in one of the less-populated parts of the city and played a few rounds of pinball.  You stood outside of your middle school and flipped off the algebra teacher who’d given you an F.  At the park your elementary friends would stop at every day, you huddled on a bench, watched kids and joggers pass, and he asked about your childhood.  All the bright things; all the good things.  What were your favorite classes ( _ “Music.” _ ) or what games did you play at recess ( _ “Foursquare.” _ ).

 

“how about first crushes?”

 

“Ok, fine, but I get to ask this one back.”

 

“deal.”

 

“There was this girl in fifth grade,” you started, looking in the distance with a thoughtful smile.  “I think her name was...like...Mary?  She had blond hair that I thought was super pretty, and...that was it.”  He snorted, and you continued, “What!  Not a lot to go on when you’re ten.  It’s all about ‘hey, I like your hair’ and ‘you have an N64 at your house, wanna get married?’”

 

“ok, ok, that’s pretty accurate.”

 

“Deal’s a deal.  First crush.  Go.”

 

He squinted and scooted closer, both of you bracing against a chilly breeze.  “jeez, uh...that’s pretty far back.  let’s see.  when i was in high school there was this--”

 

“Woah.  No.  Stop, stop, I’m not gonna believe that you didn’t have a crush until  _ high school _ .”

 

“i had an early start.”

 

“Like...you skipped ahead?”

 

“yeah.”

 

You raised a brow at him, then said, “Alright, smartypants.  Continue.”

 

“there was this guy who was really popular.  older, obviously, cuz smartypants.  and i dunno what possessed young sans’ mind, but one day at lunch, in front of everyone, i went up to him and was like, ‘hey, d’you know where i can get a library card?’”

 

You were grinning behind your hands.  “Oh no.  Oh no.”

 

“‘why?’ he asked.  and i winked, did a finger guns, and--”  You were already cracking up, and he grinned with you.  “--no, really, i did.  the whole shebang.  he said ‘why’ and i said, ‘because i wanna check you out.’”

 

You threw back your head laughing.

 

“and again.  i was younger, like the difference between a kid and a teenager, so this was honestly just hilarious.  anyway, didn’t work, but we became buddies and ruled the school together.”

 

“I need this to be a fucking  _ movie _ ,” you wheezed.

 

He put an arm around you and chuckled.  “man.  haven’t thought about that in a while.  wonder what he’s up to?”

 

“Maybe you should look him up sometime.”

 

“good idea.  hey, ted, remember when i tried to pick you up?  how’s life?”

 

The last stop would be the beach.  The sun was going down, and after eating tacos from the shady taco stand by an abandoned  _ Sears _ (which was, you assured, the  _ best  _ taco stand), you wanted coffee to prepare for the cold walk you were about to take.

 

“This isn’t my favorite coffee shop,” you told him as you went in, “but it’s definitely my favorite one that’s by the beach.”

 

“sounds good to me.”

 

You’d finally let go of the instinct to scope out the cafe for familiar faces.  You were able to just relax, order the same coffee you would’ve ordered when you were a teenager, and smile around at the place while you waited.  It had the same smell, the same decor, the same gaggle of hipsters hogging the outlets.  You shoved your hands in your pockets and leaned against Sans, feeling almost sleepy in your peace.  This had definitely been a good idea.

 

“She-Voltron?” a barista sighed out.

  
  


You tensed.  

 

You looked up, and your eyes widened as a woman you hadn’t noticed went up to the counter, her glossy pink lips grinning.  She had short, electric-blue hair, which you were sure was what threw you off from recognizing her at first.  But you  _ definitely  _ recognized her.  You recognized the stupid name she used to order her coffee.  You remembered how yours had been “Guitar-gal,” and how she’d never stopped teasing you about it.

 

She winked at the barista as she took the coffee--a mocha with extra irish cream, same as yours--and then she turned around.  You must not have been subtle enough in your staring, because she found you right away.  Her jaw slacked to match yours.

 

“...Naya?” she said.

 

You saw Sans snap upright next to you.  He suddenly grabbed your hand, you felt him spark with magic, and he was at the ready.  Yet you didn’t share his alarm.

 

“Em?” you said back hesitantly.

 

You knew this would happen.  You knew that even if he was with you, he couldn’t protect you from coincidence.  You were visiting your old haunts; you were going to see old faces.  And it stood to reason that the moment you let your guard down, your past would jump up to greet you.

 

But this wasn’t an attack.  This wasn’t part of the badness.  This was the childhood, the good times, and the innocence compiled into one person.

 

Her black eyes crinkled in a happy gasp.  She opened her arms and exclaimed, “Naya!  Holy fucking Jesus-shit,  _ Naya _ !”

 

You found yourself grinning.

 

This had been your best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look out! another cool lady!


	57. Oh No Turns Out Emily WAs The Murderer The Whole time!! D:<

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and shE Would've gotten aAway with it to! if it weren't forr those......meddlingk ids..
> 
> [heyheyhey check out my tumblr](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)   
>  [heyheyheyheyheyh check out my podcast we have new eps](https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/rotten-tomato-soup/id1308119286?mt=2)

Emily threw her guitar case on the bed.

 

“ _ Woah _ , jeez, dude!”  You carefully placed your case on the ground before rushing over to check hers for damages.

 

Em was shaking her long brown hair out of its ponytail and kicking off her shoes.  “Psh, it’s padded, it’s fine.  Plus it’s kinda old.  And shitty.  And the G string’s always coming loose.  Sure would be a shame if something…”  She stood imposingly over you and the thrown guitar.  “...were to  _ happen _ to it.”

 

“Don’t you threaten her,” you scolded.  

 

The guitar was fine, thankfully, and with a cackle, Em twisted away in a motion that turned into a dance across the room.  She stopped in front of her dresser and started taking off her pants.

 

You covered your eyes and snapped, “ _ Gah _ , dude!”

 

“You’re welcome,” she said without looking up.  She grabbed a pair of pj pants from a drawer and pulled them on, then jumped and flopped past you, onto the bed.  “You hungry?”  She took out her phone.  “Want my mom to bring up snacks?”

 

“Uh, I’m good.”  You rummaged through your backpack.  “We should just get into studying, and we...wait are you texting your mom?”

 

“Yeh.”

 

“She’s  _ downstairs _ .”

 

“Yurp.”

 

You snorted.  “You’re ridiculous.”

 

“Y’know what’s ridiculous?”  She rolled over to her stomach and reached for her own backpack, pulling out books haphazardly and scattering them over the bed.  “My mom’s chocolate chip cookies.”

 

You looked down at her; she tilted her chin down in a way that rolled her neck fat, gave you a stupid grin, and smacked the bed beside her.  You had to snort out a laugh as you relented to sit at the very edge.

 

A knock on the door, then a smiling older woman peeked into the room.  She brandished a plate of cookies.

 

“Aw  _ fuck _ yeah Mama-Bear,” Em said, darting up to take the plate.  She immediately shoved two in her mouth.

 

“Hi, Mrs. Sasaki,” you said, a little self-consciously.  “Thanks for the cookies.”

 

“No problem, sweetie!”  She suddenly gave Em a conspiratory look and whispered way too loudly to be subtle, “Is it official yet?  Have you confessed your feelings?”

 

You went bright red, and Em burst out laughing.  She was on her back on the bed again, the plate balanced on her stomach.  She guffawed, “I  _ wish _ .”

 

“W-we’re not--”

 

“Alright, well just let me know if you need anything else.  You kids have fun!”  She gave a last smile and shut the door behind her.

 

Em kicked her legs and laughed even harder at the embarrassed glare you shot her way.

 

“‘Your feelings?!’”

 

“She assumes  _ every _ girl-friend I have is a  _ girlfriend _ I have,” Em giggled.  “Half the time she’s right.  Good odds on her side.”

 

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered.  You wanted to sound disapproving, but like always, Em was so easy to forgive.  She just gave you one of her stupid, perfectly glossed, shit-eating grins, and you got the joke.  That weird ability of hers was probably why she was so popular at school.  And everywhere else.

 

“Alright.  Enough flirting.”  She swung up to sit cross-legged, half a cookie hanging from her mouth.  “Time to take you to fool school.  Chemistry first?”

 

You scowled.

 

“C’mon, it’s easy!  Just memorizing and jigsaw puzzlin’.”

 

“Your easy and my easy are  _ not _ the same thing.”

 

“Exactly.  Which is why after this, you’re gonna help me pin down that riff on  _ Thunderstruck _ .”

 

You rolled your eyes.  “Like it’s hard.”

 

She passed you the cookies and grinned.  “See?  We’ve got different kinds of easy going for us.”

 

* * *

 

Em rushed across the coffee shop toward you, and you let go of Sans’ hand.  She nearly spilled her drink wrapping you in a bear hug.

 

“No way!  No  _ fucking _ way, dude!” she was laughing.  She was as tall and pretty as you remembered, and...strong?  This hug was a lot more suffocating than it used to be.

 

“How...what’re you…” you squeaked out against her.  She gave you a few rocks for good measure before letting you go, and you held each others arms to look the other over.  “You look...there’s...blue?”

 

“Your hair’s fucking  _ long _ , my guy,” she snickered.  “And you’re still tiny!”

 

Your grin immediately dropped into a teasing pout.  “And you’re still a giraffe.”

 

“Naya and Sans?”  The barista called your order.

 

“uh.”

 

You froze and turned, but Em’s eyes reached him before yours could.  Her eyes practically sparkled.  You could still see suspicion mixed with surprise in his face, and he glanced at you.  His stare asked you, “is this ok?”

 

“Who’s this short drink of water?” Em chirped.

 

“S-Sans.  Sans, this is my...my Sans.  Sans, this is…”  You left her arms to point at her, still feeling surreal about the whole situation.  “Emily.  This is Emily.  We grew up together, we’re like...or we  _ were,  _ we were buddies.  Total buds.”

 

Em boomed out a laugh.  “You talk the exact same, holy shit!”

 

Sans was still looking between you.  He lacked the usual friendly charm he held when meeting new people, and you felt a wave of affection to know it was for your sake.  He was waiting for your lead.  Was this a kosher situation, or did he need to evacuate you?

 

You reached out and grabbed Sans hand, casual enough for Em, but the squeeze and smile you gave him finally made his expression relax a fraction.  Turning back to her with that same smile, you said, “He’s my boyfriend.”

 

Em started to draw in air like she was going to release the squeal of the century, when the barista impatiently called your name again.

 

“heh, hold on.  pause the introduction,” Sans chuckled.  He went to grab your drinks.

 

“ _ What the fuck you landed a monster holy shit holy shit Naya dude you’re doing so well for yourself he’s so hot oh my god dude I can’t handle this tell me fucking everything oh my-- _ ”

 

You snorted as Em bent down to your level and started whispering, looking at you like this revelation was a lottery win.  You blushed, shrugged, and said, “Yeah, um...we’ve been together for a couple months now.”

 

She hugged you again and, yes, wow, she had some muscles that definitely weren’t there when you were teenagers.  “Ugh, I’m just so glad I ran into you, this is  _ awesome! _ ”

 

You didn’t tell her that she was the only one in this valley you were ok reconnecting with.  You just said, “Same, man.”

 

Sans came back to your side and passed your coffee, giving Em an easy grin.  “i think we left off on ‘short glass of water.’”

 

Em’s delight grew even more.  She fake whispered to you, “ _ And  _ he’s funny?!”

 

“well, one of us had to be the comedic relief.  ‘the hair’ was already taken.”  He jerked a thumb toward you and winked.

 

“I love him!”  She smacked you on the shoulder while simultaneously offering him a hand.  When he took it, she suddenly jerked him toward her and gave him another too-strong hug.  You had a perfect view of her grave expression as she whispered to him, “If you do anything to hurt my little girl I will not  _ fucking hesitate. _ ”

 

Rarely was Sans caught off guard, but pulling away from her left him looking completely dazed.  You hid the snickers behind your hand.  As far as you could tell, Em hadn’t changed a bit.

 

“Kay, I’mma let you get back to your date, but  _ Naya. _  We are catching up.  We are definitely, definitely catching up.  Got it?”

 

“Yeah,” you said, surprised at how genuine you sounded.  “I’d really, really like that.”

 

She gave you a grin, Sans a threatening fist-shake, and a “no no I’m just kidding” motion all in two seconds, and then she was gone.

 

“that was…”  Sans turned to you, still looking confused.  “...good.  right?”

 

“Yes.  It actually was.  Which is...weird.”

 

“just a friend of yours?”  He started to lead you out of the shop, hand in hand.

 

“She was like...my best friend.”  You were a little out of it, remembering your time with her.  “In grade school.  We grew up together.”

 

It was completely dark outside, the beach lit only by streetlights and the moon.  There weren’t very many people out with it being so cold.  You and Sans moved from sidewalk to sand in privacy, walking close against the biting ocean air.  You sipped your coffee, letting it warm one hand as Sans warmed the other.

 

“and you’re good?”  He tilted his head to look at you.  “about seeing someone?”

 

“That’s the thing…she went off to school  _ before _ things started to get bad.”  You wiggled your boots in the sand, burying the toes.  “She knew about Rachel, but she didn’t know that things ended how they did, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even know I haven’t  _ been _ here.”

 

“nothing wrong with that.  right?”

 

“Yeah.  No, it’s...it’s nice, actually.  It was like I was finally…”  You stopped and turned toward the black water.  You were far from the boardwalk and streetlights--everything was dark except whatever the water could reflect.  “Like for a second I was back to being...myself.  Before everything.”

 

“she seemed to make you happy.”

 

“We did all the good stuff together.  We took guitar lessons together.  She helped me pass school.  I mean, we lost contact for a minute there, which is...that sucks.  Losing touch.”

 

He watched you while you watched the sea.  He leaned closer and wrapped an arm tight around your waist, and you could feel his magic hum comfortingly against your side.

 

“Today was really good.”

 

“yeah?”

 

You leaned into him.  “ _ You’re _ really good.”

 

He held you tighter.

 

“You’re helping me remember.  Y’know?”  Breakfast tacos, coffee, Emily and Sans were a good combination.  You felt like something small had relaxed inside of you, like a baby-step toward your destination.  “I used to be normal.”

 

“now you’re more than that.”

 

Slowly, he moved to stand in front of you, hands on your sides.  He met your eyes.  All day he’d been, in a way, subdued.  Letting you take the lead, keeping the atmosphere calm and easy, and just listening.  Now he was intent.  His fingers squeezed into you and his expression kept you frozen.

 

“i’m really proud of you, naya.”

 

You heard the waves crashing behind him.  You blinked and let your insides unwind even more.

 

“i know this is hard for you.  it’s fucking scary.”

 

You blinked again.  “...Yeah.”

 

“and you didn’t have to come back.  i would’ve stuck with you, whatever or wherever you want to go, but...you did.”  He put a hand on your cheek and glanced down.  “and i guess...i wanted to thank you.  because i feel like i’m getting to know you even better than i would’ve somewhere else, and...i just...love  _ everything _ about you.”

 

For some reason, he looked a little sad.  You ducked your head toward him and whispered, “Sans…?”

 

He was watching the sand between you, eyes flickering.  He stayed close as he carefully muttered, “you...trust me.  with showing me all this.  and telling me everything.”

 

“Of course.”  You cupped his jaw and gently tipped him toward you, searching his face.  “Is something--”

 

“and i’m not giving you anything back.”

 

You paused, still holding him.  His eyes were shut and his grin was shaky.

 

“i’m sorry...it’s taking me longer.”

 

He looked like there was a lot more that he wanted to say, but couldn’t.  You’d seen him look like this before and you’d always known there was more to him.  Just like you, he’d lived a life before now, and just the merit of his species told you that life wasn’t close to perfect.  At the very least, it had been dark.  And you knew next to nothing.

 

But you were in no rush.  He looked downcast, ashamed even, as his fingers kept clenching and unclenching.  You recognized that stage of  _ almost  _ being ready to talk about it.

 

You looked behind him again.  Gently, you turned him to face the sea, and the incline of the beach gave you enough height on him to rest your chin on top of his skull.  You stayed there for a while, just listening to the waves.

 

“I used to come here a lot when I was little.”

 

He stayed quiet, holding the arms that were wrapped around his shoulders.

 

“Me and my parents loved it.  I never saw them more relaxed than when I was a little kid, picking up seashells while they hung out by the water.”  You smiled, rocking to the rhythm of the tide.  “My earliest memory was here.”

 

“yeah?”

 

“I was so young that in my mind, everyone was a giant.  I couldn’t have been more than like, three or four?  But I remember it.  It was past my bedtime, but mom and dad got me in the car and rushed down here, and it was really busy.  Like  _ everyone _ was coming to the beach, even though it was dark.

 

“It was because there was an algae bloom.  One of the huge rare ones.  Sans, it fucking... _ glowed _ .  On the waves.  It was blue and so, so bright.  I was just this little kid, and it was like, for the first time...I realized I lived in a  _ world _ that was  _ big _ and  _ amazing _ , and…”

 

You squeezed him closer, looking out at the ocean and seeing it before your eyes.  You didn’t have to bring Sans here to tie him to the memory.  He was already part of it, ever since you’d first seen the color of his soul.

 

“It looked just like you.”

 

He twisted his head toward you.

 

“ _ Just  _ like you, Sans.  The same blue.”  You were blushing and meeting his eyes, one hand moving down to flatten over his chest.  “And it was one of the most perfect moments of my life, and it’s...it’s crazy!  It’s crazy to even say it, but whenever I remember it, it’s like having you there.  And I just...wanted to tell you about it.  As long as I’m sharing.”

 

“you mean it looked like my…”  He put a hand over yours.

 

“Yeah,” you whispered.  You rested your head next to his and looked down at your hands.  “I only saw it that one time, but it was like a flashback.”

 

For several quiet moments, you both stood still there.  The water lapped at the sand and you kept your hand pressed into his sternum as it slowly went numb from magic.  You didn’t feel the cold at all.

 

“will you…”

 

He spoke so softly, you turned your ear toward him and murmured, “Hm?”

 

You felt his ribs rise up against you as he took a deep breath.  He leaned his head further back against you so that his teeth were nearly brushing your ear.  He reached one hand back to touch your cheek with shaking fingers, and he asked, “will you look?”

 

“...Can I?  Like...you  _ want _ me to?”

 

“i’m trying...to follow your example.”  His voice came out in rasping chuckles.  “i never let anyone... _ anyone _ …”

 

You felt stronger magic start sparking over his fingers, and turning back toward him, you watched his pupils fade out to one cyan circle.

 

You couldn’t know what this meant to him, but you knew it was a matter of trust, and you knew that whatever he wasn’t ready to tell you was making it that much harder.  You rested both hands over his chest and held him tight.  You weren’t sure what to say, but you whispered, “I know it’s scary.”

 

He took another deep breath.

 

You concentrated.

 

It flickered like a fluorescent light at first, like something was trying to shut it off, but you curled against his back, envelopeed him, and it fell still.  It  _ glowed _ .  It trickled out of the center of his chest slowly, spreading through the dark air like cream through coffee.  You could look beyond him to the sea and still see its tendrils framing the edge of your vision.  You let out a soft breath, suddenly young again, suddenly seeing the world again, and this time, he was really there.  He was in your arms, shaking and nervous, but  _ trusting _ you.

 

“Sans.”

 

He didn’t move.  Without letting go, you circled around to face him.  You looked down at the swirling source of the light.

 

“your…”

 

You glanced up, and you could see his face stark and sharp even in the darkness.  He was meeting your eyes, but not like he was looking at  _ you _ .  Just at your eyes.  And he had the same wonder in his expression that you felt in your chest.

 

You didn’t want to look away, but you couldn’t keep your distance.  You pulled him to you and pressed your lips needily to his, and felt the love broil inside you like a physical thing.  You’d moved to give him the higher ground, to let him envelop you, and he did.  He wrapped his hands in your hair and kissed you back.  He wasn’t shaking anymore.  Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the hue of his light join his arms in holding you, and any time you pulled back to look at him, the bone was painted with gold.

 

You were home, and for the first time, that thought was the most comforting thing in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god naya what is it about algae that just greases your engine so much


	58. Strict NO-CUSSING Work Policy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> myyyyy pupppyyyyy is the light of my liiiiiiiife and the darknesssss tooooooooooo
> 
> she makes me so tired. i love her very very much and i am so. tired.
> 
> so tired i can't remember how to code HEY. here are fffffffffffucking links:  
> https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/  
> https://soundcloud.com/user-891528176

“So you’re a janitor.”

 

“exciting, i know.”

 

“Lemme get this straight.”  You joined your hands in front of you and closed your eyes.  “You had... _ countless _ opportunities to bring this up.”

 

“did i?”

 

“Yes.  Seeing as  _ I _ was a janitor.”

 

“right.  fair.”

 

“And yet…”  You brought your hands down to point at him and gave him a disappointed look.  “You didn’t.”

 

“whoops.”

 

“All the jokes you could’ve made.  All the opportunities.”

 

“wasted.”

 

“Wasted!”  You opened your arms and glared while he laughed.  “What’s the deal, dude?  So many  _ goofs _ , just down the drain.”

 

“i wasn’t thinking about it,” he tried to defend, shrinking and giggling under your disapproval.

 

“‘Oh, you scrub toilets?’” you said in a very excellent Sans impression.  “‘Me too.  That really  _ stinks _ .’”

 

He kept laughing, getting weaker and weaker as he wheezed, “i’m sorry!”

 

“Well, you should be.”

 

Despite the scolding, you took his hand and leaned against him across the frozen parking lot.  The two of you were approaching a red-brick building, and you could see the bustle of several people through the windows.

 

You were at Toriel’s school.  The term was starting in two days, and it seemed everyone was chipping in with preparations.  On top of learning that Sans worked there, you’d learned that Undyne was the gym teacher.  You spotted her and Alphys’ jeep parked near the front, the trunk overflowing with sports equipment.  You, Frisk, and Toriel (under Flowey’s sarcastic guidance) had been busy at home making decorations to welcome students back from the holiday break.  Yet despite all that you’d helped with, this was your first time actually seeing the school.  

 

It was bigger than it looked in pictures, with the old fashioned schoolhouse design creating the facade and the functional parts of the building stretching out behind it.  There was a soccer field, a baseball diamond, and a playground out front.  Perhaps the most outstanding part of it was the amazing, bursting garden that filled every available bit of land.  Like at Simone’s house, there were flowers blooming despite the frost.  Hedges were trimmed in impressive geometric shapes:  stars; hearts; even a strand of DNA.  One side of the field even looked like a cherry-blossom orchard, with the surface of the snow covered in white petals.

 

“Is this a school or a garden?” you asked as you passed a patch of impossibly blooming sunflowers.

 

“t lets asgore do whatever he wants with the grounds.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“you could say he’s got a... _ king _ thumb.”

 

“...Three out of ten.”

 

“aw, what?  but you got it.”

 

“Doesn’t make it funny.”

 

You both kept chuckling as you held the door for him.  In the days since showing Sans all your favorite childhood places, you’d been feeling steadily calmer.  You were spending enough time at Toriel’s house to feel comfortable; you didn’t feel as nervous about going out; and the trust between you and Sans was building more every day.  You were starting to feel optimistic about the whole situation.

 

So when a cluster of new faces bustling in and out of classrooms met you, you didn’t feel nervous.  You felt excited to meet them.

 

The school’s design was as warm on the inside as it was on the outside.  All the accents were wood and brick, with the students’ artwork lining the walls and plenty of cushy places to sit in the lobby.  It reminded you more of an old library than a school.  The front desk sat before a wide hallway that led to the classrooms, and at one corner of the room was a curved staircase leading up to the second floor.

 

“Anaya!  Sans!”

 

Toriel waved from a door behind the front desk.  She was jiggling the knob, apparently to no avail.

 

“havin’ some trouble, t?” he drawled as the two of you walked over.

 

“I may or may not have locked my keys in my office.”

 

You snorted.

 

“Sans, could you--”

 

Suddenly, your hand was empty, and then the lock clicked and Sans opened it from the other side.  You and Toriel were left blinking as he grinned.

 

“could i what?”

 

“Show off.”

 

You all turned at the new voice to see Simone, hands on her hips.  Her afro was tamed by a bandana, and she wore overalls that were dirty at the knees and tucked into heavy work boots.

 

Sans turned his grin to her.  “gotta remind ya why it’s good to have me around.”

 

“That, and you’re good for a laugh.”

 

“true.”

 

“And how’s the new kid doing?”  You barely had time to react before Simone was wrapping you in a strong hug.  “We missed you at the concert!”

 

“Hi!  Good!  Yeah, yeah, h-ha, same,” you squeaked against her.  You tried not to gasp for air before she finally let you go.  “S-sorry, something came up and--”

 

“Say no more, say no more, I get it.  It’s New Years, you’ve got a  _ boyfriend _ you wanna get alone--”

 

“ _ Um. _ ”

 

“-- _ I get it. _ ”  She leaned against the desk and gave you all a sly smile.  “I mean, me and Asgore could hardly  _ wait _ until we could just--”

 

“ _ Aaaaah _ .”  Toriel pointedly covered her ears and glared at Simone, who laughed uproariously.

 

“Whoops!  My bad.”  She drew her fingers over her mouth in a locking motion and tried to contain her giggles.  “Too much information.”

 

“speaking of,” Sans said, sliding next to you again, “where is the big guy?”

 

“Oh, he’s around.  Probably off smelling roses or pruning hedges or something.”

 

“I’m up here, dear.”

 

You looked up.  On the overlook of the second floor, Asgore was smiling over the rail.  He wore a fuzzy sweater that read “Feliz Navi Dad.”  A moment after he spoke, Frisk popped their head out next to him and waved energetically.

 

“Hey babies!” Simone called.  “How’s everything looking?”

 

Frisk gave a thumbs up.  Asgore said, “I think the frost did a number on my lilies, but with a little extra care, they’ll pull through.”

 

Simone feigned sorrow and gasped, “No!  Not the liliies!”

 

Asgore’s ears perked up when he noticed you.  He gave a little wave and stuff, “Howdy, Anaya!”

 

You gave an awkward smile back. “Hey hey.”

 

Without looking up, Toriel said, “If you are done with that, would you mind checking the boiler room?  Someone said they heard banging in the vents.”

 

You glanced at Toriel, noticing the almost imperceptible distance in her face and tone as she addressed Asgore.  It wasn’t cold; it was just professional.  Not at all like the way she spoke to you or Sans or Simone.

 

“or i could check it--”

 

Toriel gave Sans a smack under the desk, cutting him off with an “ _ oof. _ ”

 

“No problem,” the king said brightly.  “Frisk, why don’t you go find Tyler?  He should be about done helping Hector by now.”

 

They nodded, then started skipping down the stairs two steps at a time, drawing out a “W-wait, maybe a little slower!” from Asgore.

 

“Be careful, my child,” Toriel added, giving them a stern look when they reached the bottom.

 

They shrugged apologetically at their mother and ran down the hall, almost hitting a human man emerging from a classroom with a high stack of papers in his hands.

 

“Jeez, need help with that Manny?” Simone said when he almost fumbled at Frisk’s fly-by.

 

“N-nope, no, got it.  I think I got it.”

 

You assumed this was one of the teachers--the sweater vest and glasses he wore were pretty on the nose.  Still struggling with the papers, he gave a hurried smile toward you and Sans.

 

“Good to have you back, Sans!”

 

“good to be back,” he replied, and when Manny almost dropped his papers giving a goodbye wave, you caught Sans twirling a finger at his side, and quickly the stack was righted to let Manny get safely out the door.

 

“That was Emmanuel, one of our fourth-grade instructors,” Toriel explained.  “Things are a bit hectic right now, otherwise I would have stopped him for a proper introduction.”

 

“It’s fine,” you said.  You rubbed the back of your neck and glanced down the hall, admitting, “Actually, I don’t know, like...how useful I can be?  I just figured I’d tag along if you could use an extra set of hands.”

 

“you’re  _ my  _ extra set of hands today.”  Sans entwined your fingers.  “i need those swollen-ass biceps of yours.”

 

“Language,” Simone and Toriel said in unison.

 

“sorry.  swollen- _ derriere  _ biceps.”

 

You stuck with Sans as Simone and Toriel got caught up in the office.  Most of the teachers were holed up in their classrooms, putting up decorations, leaving welcome-back presents on the desks, and preparing lessons.  Peeking into rooms as you passed, you spotted an equal number of human and monster teachers.

 

“So what’s the plan?” you asked when Sans stopped at a utility closet.

 

“just janitor stuff.”  He wore an easy smile as he pulled out a cart of cleaning supplies, his pupils sliding to you.  “you know the drill.  right?”

 

You wrinkled your nose.  “I quit that job.”

 

“then you can just hang out with me.  distract me.”  He rolled up his sleeves and flexed his bones, to literally no effect.  You snorted at the wink he gave you.  “or you can scope the guns.”

 

“Impressive.”

 

You followed him as he swept and mopped the halls.  He filled you in on all the names of teachers you’d surely meet eventually, and what classes they taught.  You did your best to keep track.

 

“You know I’m gonna forget everything the moment we go home, right?”

 

“i don’t doubt it.”

 

His cleaning eventually took you past the gym.  From the hall, it sounded like a storm of basketballs was wailing throughout the gym, and opening the door revealed that exact scene.  Undyne stood in the middle of the court with a cart full of basketballs.  With both hands, she was grabbing and throwing them so quickly, her arms looked like windmills.

 

Shouting over the sound of the repeated impact, you asked, “ _ Why? _ ”

 

Undyne noticed you and grinned, but didn’t stop.  “ _ WHAT?! _ ” she yelled back.

 

You didn’t dare step inside and risk getting nailed by the maelstrom of sporting equipment.  You shook your head and glanced at Sans.  He just shrugged back.

 

Undyne tilted her head at you as you waved your arms to indicate the basketballs and gave her a questioning look.  After a moment, the intention dawned on her, and with a loud cackle she answered, “ _ PRESSURE TESTING! _ ”

 

You and Sans left her to it, the sound of bouncing rubber chasing you as you moved up to the second floor to keep cleaning.

 

“Man, you’ve all got jobs,” you groaned at one point.  You were leaning against the railing and watching him mop with a frown.

 

“gotta get that paper,” he chuckled.

 

“Yeah.   _ I _ gotta get that paper.  I’ve got enough saved up for now, but that’s not gonna last forever.  And I’m gonna feel like a huge dick if I can’t start paying Tori rent.”

 

“language.”

 

You cocked a brow at him.  “We’re alone.”

 

“you say that, but have you seen how long t’s ears are?  she hears everything.”

 

You snorted, rolled your eyes, and amended, “Fine.  I’d feel like a  _ ding-dong _ .”

 

You both snorted, falling comfortably into a moment of silence as Sans worked and you thought.  You  _ would _ be needing a job soon, but the question of where to work had been plaguing you ever since you arrived.  You were definitely feeling better about your situation, but you still dreaded the familiar.  You couldn’t imagine a worse scenario than being trapped behind a counter and having to interact with old faces.  You would have to be strategic about where to apply.

 

As you were zoning out, a figure at the other end of the hall caught your eye.  You almost didn’t recognize him at a distance, but you smiled when you realized it was Tyler.  His hand was reaching behind the corner, as if he was leading someone around.  Probably Frisk.

 

You remembered that strange feeling you got the first time you met him and Simone, and just as that memory occured to you, you locked eyes.  Even from across the hall, you could feel him bearing into you, and you almost,  _ almost _ felt something else...but then he turned away.  You blinked, the comfort of hanging out with Sans giving way to confusion.

 

You watched him say something to the person around the corner, then he turned back toward you with his head down and started to approach.  You expected to see Frisk’s smile follow him, but instead, your curiosity piqued to see a large, dark arm attached to the boy’s hand.

 

The monster who loomed over Tyler was lithe, tall, and wore a clean brown suit.  The hand holding his resembled claws more than anything; feet like raptor’s talons bent out from their pant legs; and from their collar extended a long, green, serpentine neck.  Of all the monsters you’d met, none had looked quite so  _ predatory _ as this one.

 

They stopped at a classroom door, apparently chatting with whoever was inside.  Tyler’s hand never left the monster’s.

 

Sans noticed you staring.  You must have looked alarmed, because he asked, “what’s up?”

 

“Who’s…?”

 

He glanced back.  “that’s hector.”

 

Hector.  You’d heard him mentioned earlier, but you hadn’t expected a monster to come attached to a name like that.

 

“He’s our counselor.”  You jumped to hear Simone’s voice suddenly right beside you.  She was coming up the stairs, looking down at Tyler with a smile and a wave.  Turning back toward him, you saw him wave back.

 

“Oh.”

 

You kept watching, until you felt Simone’s eyes on you.

 

“Don’t worry.  He doesn’t give the best first impression, but he’s a sweetheart.”

 

You flushed and said, “I wasn’t...I’m not  _ worried _ , or anything, just he’s…”  Simone kept watching you understandingly until you finished, “...different?”

 

“You can say that again.  And he knows it, too.”

 

The two started to continue down the hall, Tyler picking up the pace to reach his mother while still holding Hector’s hand.  The monster’s arms were so long he didn’t have to bend to keep level with him, despite the fact that his shoulders were above your eye level.

 

“Aw, that’s so nice of you helping Mr. Sillihiss!” Simone said, giving her son a proud look.  She turned to the monster as they came to a stop before the three of you.  “Everything about done, Hector?”

 

“Yes, I believe so.”  His voice was deep, with extra inflections on the S’s.  Up close, you could get a better look at his reptilian face.  His jaws moved strangely as he talked, splitting all the way across his cheeks.  His eyes were slitted, intent, and icy blue.  It was impossible to read him.

 

“how you been, buddy?” Sans flicked his fingers in a casual salute.

 

Hector’s head swiveled toward him.  As his long neck twisted, it rested back in a question-mark shape, bringing his head down to an easier eye-level.  “Fine.  Things have been nice and quiet without everyone here.”

 

“aw.  i missed you, too.”

 

He finally turned to you.  You tried not to let it show, but those eyes made you feel like stunned prey.  You’d thought you were over the general shock of meeting monsters, but Hector was something else.  He was something out of a B-movie.

 

“We haven’t been properly introduced, have we?”  He offered his free hand--the fingers were long and topped with curling talons.  “Hector Sillihiss.”

 

“Uh, N...Naya.”  When you reached for his hand, your eyes flitted from Hector down to Tyler, who stood steadfastly by him.  The moment you looked at the child, his face went from passive to concentrated.  In just that instant of catching his eye, you felt a prod, and then...you let out a breath.  You looked back up at Hector, and suddenly, his eyes weren’t keeping you frozen.  They were friendly.  You shook his hand without apprehension.

 

“Good to meet you.”  After giving your hand one firm squeeze, he looked down at Tyler.  “Thank you.  I think that will be enough today.”

 

Tyler nodded up at him, and finally let go to go to his mother.  You blinked, the sudden calmness registering as both familiar and abnormal.  You’d felt this when you met Tyler.  He’d shown that intensity.

 

“It’s not your imagination.”

 

You blinked as Simone smiled at you, rubbing Tyler’s head as he hid shyly behind her.  He no longer seemed to want to look at you.

 

“Wh...huh?”

 

“Tyler likes to help me through introductions,” Hector explained in his even, hissing voice.

 

“Uh...help how exactly?”

 

Sans abandoned his mop to stand next to you, elbows propping casually against the railing.  “remember how we told you we were charles xavier-ing kids?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

He tipped his head toward Tyler, who was still hiding.

 

“Can I tell her about your special stuff, hun?”  Simone waited for Tyler to nod before saying, “He’s always been really good at feelings.  And if someone is feeling  _ bad _ when they should be feeling  _ okay _ , he tries to help them.”

 

“He is an empath.”  Hector folded his arms behind his back and cocked his head at Tyler in a bird-like way.  “Or that’s what we’re calling it.”

 

Tyler peered at you from around his mother, but quickly averted his eyes.

 

“Woah,  _ what? _ ”  You gaped at Simone.  “That’s awesome!”

 

He looked back at you, but his expression didn’t grow any less forlorn.  Meanwhile, his mother ruffled his head and said, “Isn’t it?  The coolest superpower  _ ever! _  Making everyone feel a little better about things!”

 

“Human children can have trouble warming up to me,” Hector said frankly.  “Until Tyler reassures them.  As I’m sure you felt.”

 

You shrunk self-consciously as he glanced at you.  “H-ha...yeah, maybe.”

 

“It’s alright.  You’re neither the first nor the worst.”

 

Sans snorted.  “remember that one kid last year?”

 

“The one who threw a pencil sharpener at him?” Simone snickered.

 

Somehow, Hector’s emotionless face managed to look deadpan.  “I try not to.”

 

Sans and Simone tried to contain their humor as she said, “Yup.  Nope.  Of course not.  That was  _ totally _ not funny at all, that thing that happened.”

 

He sighed, then turned to you one last time and gave a little nod.  “It was good to meet you, Naya.  I hope we’ll have another chance to talk.”

 

You smiled and said, “Yeah, me too.”

 

“Here, I’ll see you out,” Simone said, taking Tyler’s hand.  “I had a couple more scheduling questions for you.”

 

They went down the stairs and out the door.  Sans put a hand on your back once they were gone and said, “sorry if he surprised you.  sim’s right, though.  real nice guy.”

 

You didn’t reply, your mind racing as you tried to place something.  Sans glanced around awkwardly at your silence, clearing his throat, and then you popped your fist in your hand and lit up with realization.

 

“ _ Got it _ .”

 

“got it?”

 

You turned to him with a “duh” expression and said, “Garrus Vakarian.”

 

He blinked.  “...huh?”

 

“That’s who he reminds me of.  Ok.  Ok, yeah, he’s no longer scary.  Definitely hot now.  Ok.”

 

“ _ huh? _ ”

 

“A video game character.  The  _ hottest  _ one.”  

 

Sans looked incredulous.  You got out your phone, typed a search, and showed Sans the first picture that showed up, and quickly his face went from confused to understanding.

 

“oh.  ok, yeah.”

 

“ _ Right? _ ”

 

“yeah, i get it.  the hottest.  definitely the hottest ever.”  Sans took the phone from you and started scrolling through images, making you laugh.  “and now i gotta  _ work  _ with the guy.  knowing he’s the fucking hottest.”

 

“Language.”

 

“farting hottest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i'm sorry to shoehorn all these OCs in right from the start gate but that's how it be sometimes! here they are! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	59. they're both just goblins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year. let 20GAYteen commence
> 
>  
> 
> [my! tumblr!!!](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)  
> [my! podcast!!!!](https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/rotten-tomato-soup/id1308119286?mt=2)

The school was nearly empty when Sans’ mopping took you to a classroom occupied by Frisk and Toriel.  They were taping snowflakes on the windows, stepping back every now and then to look at the big picture or rearrange cutouts.  Toriel tossed you a quick smile over her shoulder as she was reaching for more tape.

 

“Everything still looking ship-shape?” she asked.

 

“aye,” Sans said.  He started sweeping the edges of the room while you grabbed some snowflakes and joined the Hoepfulls.  “looks better than when  _ i’m _ doing the cleaning.  dunno why you keep me on board.”

 

She smirked at him.  “Like Simone said.  The jokes.”

 

“I mean,” you said, “that’s why  _ I  _ keep him around, so.”

 

He laughed and met your eyes, sharing a flash of tenderness before turning back to his cleaning.

 

“How have you enjoyed your tour?”

 

You looked at Toriel’s questioning smile and said, “It’s an awesome school, Tori.”

 

Frisk leaned into your view.   **It’s the BEST school.**

 

The monster chuckled as she placed the last snowflake.  “I think so, too.”  

 

She stepped back with her hands on her hips, taking a final look around the room.  You followed her eyes to a banner that read “Welcome Back First-Graders!”, coat hooks marked with children’s names that had goodie bags hanging off them, and the first day’s lesson plan already written out on the whiteboard.  “Snow Underground??  It’s Magic!”

 

“So this is your class?”

 

Toriel sighed and shook her head.  “Alas, I am busy enough with running the school, I do not have the privilege of teaching any one class.”

 

“nope.  you teach  _ all  _ of them.”  Sans grinned at her as she frowned.

 

“That is not true.”

 

**Kind of true.**

 

“If a class needs help with the lesson plan, I offer it.  That is all.”  She sat back on the teacher’s desk, and you finally noticed how tired she looked.  There were lines under her eyes and her normally perfect posture was giving way to a slouch, but still, she smiled.  “It is my honest pleasure to contribute wherever I can.”

 

Sans’ teasing expression turned sympathetic.  “yeah, s’long as you’re not stretching yourself too thin.”

 

Frisk sat beside their mother and leaned on her arm, prompting her to hug them around the shoulders and drown their small frame under her.  “I know.  But the work truly is my joy.  You know that.”

 

You felt an extra stab of guilt to know that she was working so hard on top of letting you stay with her, feeding you, and promising to teach you magic.  You bit your lip and sat on a desk opposite her.

 

“I’m gonna try and start helping out, Tori,” you said, hands joined in your lap.

 

She blinked.  “What do you mean?  You helped us with these decorations, and--”

 

“No, no, I mean like...I’ll get a job soon.  I’m looking at places tonight to apply, then I can start contributing.  Y’know.  Like with groceries, and my room, all that stuff.”

 

She continued to look perplexed.  Frisk wiggled their head out from between her arm and side to give you the same face.  “A job?  But I thought--”

 

You put up a hand.  “I know.  I’ve been weird about stuff, I know, I know, but I’m getting better.  I’ll be ok.”

 

“But I thought…”  She and Frisk tilted their heads.  “Would you not like to work here?”

 

It took a second for the question to process, then you were the one looking confused.  Behind you, you heard the rustle of Sans’ broom stop.

 

“...Huh?”

 

“I just assumed...did you not say you had wished to be a teacher?”

 

You sat up straighter.  “W-woah, I’m not...I don’t have a degree, that was just...I  _ was  _ gonna be a teacher, but--”

 

A smile quirked Toriel’s lips.  “Anaya, this is a private institution.  I can hire whoever I wish.”

 

“But I can’t…”  You stood up, wringing your hands.  “I have no experience.  And I definitely,  _ definitely _ don’t feel comfortable with--”

 

“Not a full teaching position, no, of course.”  She stood with you, looking reassuring.  You suddenly felt like you’d just entered a negotiation.  “But an assistant, surely?  That would begin the experience you require, would it not?”

 

You flitted between her eyes.  You couldn’t deny that the emotion prevailing over everything else was a sense of  _ rightness.   _ You’d been struggling to think of a place that was distant enough from your past to be safe enough for work.  You couldn’t get any more distant than a school run by monsters.  You looked back at Sans, who was watching you blankly.  He was waiting on your response.

 

“I mean...i-it would, but…”

 

“You do not have to decide now, my friend.”  She put a hand on your shoulder and smiled.  “But this has always been my hope.  I would be overjoyed to have you.”

 

You kept staring at her, already suspecting what your answer would be, and you said, “...Okay, I’ll just...I’ll let you know.”

 

“Wonderful.”

 

You only broke eye contact when someone knocked at the door.  Simone was grinning in at everyone.  Behind her was Tyler, and behind him, completely blocking the view past the door frame, was Asgore.  He had to duck his head just to be able to peek inside.

 

“We’re heading out,” Simone said, one hand on Tyler’s head and the other on the huge white paw holding her shoulder.  “Gonna go out for Ty’s last day of vacation.”

 

“We should hurry if we want to make it to the movie, dear,” Asgore rumbled behind her, looking apologetically at you all.

 

“Oh shoot, that’s right!  What’re we seeing, honey?”

 

From behind her, Tyler murmured in his usual solemn voice, “Star Wars.”

 

“ _ Star Waaaaars!! _ ” his mother roared, with ten times the enthusiasm.  She laughed and let Asgore pull her away, giving a last wave and saying, “See ya Monday, boss!”

 

“Have fun!” Toriel called after her.

 

Beside her, Frisk pouted.   **I wanna go see Star Wars.**

 

“We have seen it twice, my child.”

 

They folded their arms and sighed.

 

“Regardless.”  Toriel stretched, squeezing her eyes shut and going on her tiptoes.  “We should be heading home as well.  Now that everything is ready, I am determined to relax until Monday.”

 

**Pajama party?**

 

“Pajama party.”  She grabbed her coat from the teacher’s chair and smiled at you and Sans.  “Will you two join us?  I will be making chocolate chip cookies!”

 

“almost done here, t,” Sans said with a salute.  He resumed his sweeping.

 

You shrugged and gave her a smile.  “I’ll hang around for a little bit.  Don’t wait up.”

 

“Very well.  You will lock up, Sans?”

 

“roger that.”

 

They left, and for several moments, the only sound was Sans’ broom shuffling along the linoleum.  You sat back down on a desk and stared out the window, over the grounds and gardens of the school.  The sun had just gone down, leaving everything in bluish twilight.  The school sat close to the base of the mountain, and from here you could see the rest of the valley curling around to the sea, getting darker and quieter by the second.

 

“so.”

 

“So?”

 

“what’re you gonna tell her?”

 

You turned to him; he didn’t look up from his cleaning, but he wore a relaxed smile.

 

“I mean...yes, right?”

 

He glanced at you.

 

You started twiddling your thumbs as you continued, “It makes sense.  I think.  I definitely don’t  _ know _ anybody here, or, I mean, I didn’t before.  It’s new in that good way.”

 

“not to push you either way…”  His sweeping started to bring him closer to your desk.  He continued to look nonchalant.  “but this could be pretty good for me.”

 

You raised a brow.  “For you?”

 

“yup.  elevate my status.”

 

“What?” you snorted.

 

“think about it.”  He stopped and held the broom in both hands, balancing his chin on top.  “the lowly janitor getting with the hot new teacher.”

 

“Teacher’s aide.”

 

“still.”  His grin turned teasing.  “it’ll be a scandal.  totally upturn the bureaucracy around here.”

 

You returned the look, adding an overly flirty lean on top of it.  “Well, it’ll be good for me, too.”

 

“yeah?”  He leaned toward you, too.

 

“Yup.  I can just spend all my time checking out the cute monster dudes.”

 

“who, hector?”

 

You laughed.  It was so loud, it suddenly reminded you how quiet and still the scene had been before, and you only then realized how close Sans had gotten.  He was practically between your legs.  Your eyes flitted down to his hand as it came forward to brace itself on the desk, then slowly rose back up to his pupils.

 

You hadn’t had much time alone since getting to Ebott.  Not really.  Not in the intimate space of your old apartment, or his room, or anywhere that would let you really,  _ really _ be with each other.  Now there was just you, him, and an empty building, and it just kept getting darker and quieter.

 

You felt the uncertain tension as his pupils darted down, then between yours, and your breath sounded way too loud to your own ears.  You didn’t move.  And when you didn’t move, you saw his jaw flex, and he casually pulled away to drag his broom back to the cleaning cart parked outside.

 

“just saying,” he said, grinning over his shoulder.  “could be fun.”

 

Your gut rolled.  You watched him load up the broom and numbly got up to follow him.  Your mind had suddenly been thrown down a welcome--if unexpected--path.

 

Your libido had always reflected your mood, and since moving, you hadn’t been in the mindset for intimacy.  But now you felt right.  You felt optimistic.  You suddenly felt like it had been far, far too long.

 

Silently, you walked behind him to the utility closet.  He just kept smiling as he unlocked the door and pushed the cart in.  You wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

 

“alright, almost done.  just gotta--”

 

You followed him in and closed the door.  It was tight, with just a bare lightbulb hanging by a string to light the shelves of cleaning supplies.

 

He stared at you.  There was a hint of surprise on his face at first, and then something else.  Something uncertain.  And you were sure that if he tried to ask what you were up to, you would lose your nerve.  So you decided to stop thinking.

 

You walked forward.  You weren’t rushed or clumsy.  You were deliberate.  His eyes flickered all over you as you approached, getting more and more needy.  He let out a shaky sigh the moment your lips met his teeth, and he eased back against the shelves as you pushed into him.  Immediately, your hands slid under his shirt and worked patiently up each rib.  He grasped at your arms and squeezed, pleading with every bit of pressure and arching into the touches.  You felt a mix of haze and clarity in your mind to know that yes, you wanted this now, and you knew you would let yourself go to get it.

 

You broke the kiss to drag your lips to the side of his skull.  “Where?”

 

“h-huh?” he breathed.

 

“Where can we go?”

 

“uh…”  He was clearly having trouble, his ribs heaving against your hand.

 

“Is your place empty?”  You pressed yourself closer so your legs were forced to intertwine.

 

“uh, it’s...sh-shit, no, it’s not, um...paps is home, so we…”

 

This didn’t seem like a roadblock to your cloudy mind.  You pulled away a bit, your bodies still touching.  He was already so blue, with dilated pupils and hooded eyes.  He was below your eye level, looked completely helpless, and you really, really liked it.  You gave just a moment of thought before biting your lip.

 

“Are the doors locked?”

 

His eyes widened.  You kept staring at him, leaning a little closer.

 

“We’re the last ones here, right?”

 

He searched your eyes, and you could sense the growing excitement as he took your hand away from his chest, pushed you back, and said, “hold on.”

 

He disappeared.  You didn’t skip a beat as you pushed the cart as far out of the way as possible, started shedding your jacket, and turned around so you were the one with your back to the wall.  You had just enough time before he popped back in, finishing by popping the lock closed on the closet door.  He took a breath to turn around, but as soon as he saw you bracing yourself against the shelves, he was back in the moment.

 

His hands found your hips, his tongue found your teeth.  You gave a soft, happy moan and wrapped your arms around his head.  His fingers suddenly dug into your side, and with surprising strength, he pushed you up so you were sitting on a shelf.  You gasped and locked your legs around his waist, pulling away for a split second to give him a heady look.  This was already very,  _ very  _ good.

 

You realized wearing a flannel shirt had been a great idea when he started unbuttoning it.  Just the motion of him urgently and deftly going from button to button, top to bottom, was erotic.  When he opened it, his mouth and hands chewed and grabbed at your exposed collarbone, your shoulders, your neck.  You leaned into every touch, giving an affirming moan when he pushed your bra up and out of the way of your breasts, and another, sharper sound when he moved his ministrations to them.

 

You’d never done something like this.  Something  _ public _ like this.  You hadn’t pegged yourself as the type to enjoy it, but five minutes hadn’t even passed before your hips were pressing against him and your body was curling at an angle that would lead him straight down.

 

He noticed the posture.  With one hand sliding up your back and the other pinching your nipple, he slowed enough to hiss, “how far are we taking this?”

 

“H-hah…”  You took a moment to find your voice, meeting his eyes before rolling your hips and saying, “Far…?”

 

With a snap, his face became even more aroused, the blush darkening to a gentle glow just beneath his eye sockets.  “you sure?” he murmured, and when he spoke, you could see the blue of his tongue shining between his teeth.

 

You put a hand on his shoulder and gave a push down, and he complied.

 

It was a struggle to get out of your jeans, but the slight roughness it took for him to lift you up and drag them down your legs was welcome.  He rose back up to kiss you while slipping a hand between your legs, first over your underwear, then gliding slowly past the fabric to bury two fingers in your folds.

 

“F-f...uck…” you whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder.  He took advantage of the motion to lock his teeth around your neck, giving the slightest pressure as his tongue lapped against you.

 

He was moving so  _ slowly _ .  Could he tell how much you liked it?  Because the painstaking way he dragged his fingers over every surface and ever depth felt too deliberate.  You started to practically pant against him, letting the slowness, the  _ teasing _ , bring you closer.  He moved so carefully, you almost didn’t notice when he lowered himself.

 

At first, he just kept touching.  He pulled your panties down to your ankles and watched quietly as he stroked you, spread you, and when you gave an obvious, desperate roll, he glanced up at you.  Without looking away, he brought a finger to your entrance, waited for the feverish nod, and then pushed inside.

 

You quickly hopped off the shelf.

 

He looked up, not moving his fingers.  He even went so far to press lightly against your walls, drawing a hiss out of you, before asking, “everything ok?”

 

You gave a hoarse laugh, looking embarrassed through the heat.  “If I’m sitting on a thing...that thing’s gonna get gross.”

 

He snorted, too, but soon his attention was brought back to pleasuring you.  You alternated leaning your head back to breathe and craning it down to watch him.  His free hand was running up and down your thigh, stroking with just the fingertips.  You kept your eyes fixed as he leaned a bit closer; still far enough that there was distance between his face and your body, but close enough that the tip of his tongue was able to slide out and reach you.  You gasped and twitched into it.  This was always when you were most reminded of his inhumanity.  Humans didn’t have tongues like that.  Long and thin and charged with static.  You put a hand over your mouth to stifle yourself as that tongue patiently explored you.

 

As much as you loved the teasing, you were getting impatient.  He always seemed to bring you to the edge too quickly.  Your voice started getting more and more breathless, and he took the hint to probe faster, lick harder.  Clearly he was starting to pick up on what you liked, because he knew enough to slide his tongue  _ in _ you, along with the finger, and part his teeth to completely enclose your groin.  You didn’t feel embarrassed to watch him, even making eye contact, as one hand pulsed into you and the other raked down your leg.  

 

Once again, you couldn’t believe what quick work he was making of you.  You grasped his skull, arched your back, spasmed against him, and came.  You were still covering your mouth as you choked out moan after moan, forgetting where you were for several moments before slumping with a sigh.  Only when you fell still did he draw away from you, up your torso, trailing kisses until he reached your face and fixed you with a tender stare.

 

“Sh...shit, Sans, I…fuck…”  You laughed quietly, clumsily holding his jaw.  “ _ Fuck _ , Sans.”

 

“yeah?” he chuckled.

 

You looked between his eyes, almost disbelieving at how good he could make you feel, and then, without warning, you pushed him until his back hit the door.

 

He barely had time to gasp before you were falling back into him, and you felt so incredible, you felt like you wanted to give him  _ so much, _ that you overpowered him.  He let himself be helpless again.  Your head angled down and his angled up and he moaned, tugged your open shirt and shook against you.  He gave himself up.

 

You pushed up his shirt and worked your way down.  Your head was clearing, and as you licked and kissed his ribs and sternum, you watched him.  You waited for clues.  You experimented, pushing your fingers between ribs, and when that worked, you hooked those fingers around him.  Another moan, and you grabbed a rib in your fist and gave a slight yank.  You smiled to see that this undid him the most.

 

“This ok?”  You wanted to hear him say it, even if the look on his face was telling enough.

 

“ _ fuck _ yes.”

 

With a kiss that left his tongue chasing yours when you broke away, you knelt in front of him.  You ran your fingers quickly down his chest, letting them hit hard on every divot, until they grabbed the last two ribs.  For a moment, you maintained eye contact, then you pulled his ribs toward you, tilted your head back, and closed your lips over the base of his sternum.  Your chin was  _ inside  _ him, and before you could think of how strange it was, you licked the interior of his ribcage.

 

“ _ shit,  _ shit, holy shit, fuck…”  He was almost laughing, panting and grabbing your shoulders as he curled over you.  “hah...it’s sensitive, fuck, i...ah…”

 

You pulled back a fraction.  “Should I sto--”

 

“ _ no _ .”

 

You stayed there long enough for him to stop shaking and his groans to become deeper--you let him get used to it.  Then your eyes strayed downwards.  His pants were bulging forward and the glow was leaking over the waistband.  With another look up, you unbuttoned his jeans, slowly dragged the zipper down, and opened them.  You were still kneeling, and when you didn’t move away, his eyes started to widen.

 

You were able to get a closer look than ever before.  This was inhuman, too, and not just because of the holographic glow of it.  It tapered out to a thinner point and had a more drastic natural curve.  Your curious, close-up staring seemed to make him antsy, as he took your face and tilted you up enough to look at him.

 

“y-you don’t have to…”  He glanced between you and himself.  He looked excited and nervous all at once.  “take it as slow as you need, just…”

 

To quiet him, you took the hand holding you, brought it to your mouth, and slowly licked one of his fingers.  His uncertainty snuffed out like a light.  Now he just looked hungry.

 

You kept one hand holding a wing of his pelvis, and the other started stroking him.  You used fingertips first, then the rest of your fingers, then your palm, and then you were holding him completely.  Again, the contact was a fiercer buzzing than the rest of his body, and eventually left your hand numb.

 

After several moments of experimental touching, you realized he was quiet.  A glance up toward him, at his closed eyes and clenched jaw, made you wonder if he was restraining himself.  Even the hands holding your head weren’t pulling you any closer, though they were tense.  Did he  _ want _ to pull you closer?

 

This was new, and if you were being honest, a little intimidating.  But you wanted to give back every moment of goodness he gave you.

 

You let your fist rest at the base of him, and carefully, you closed your mouth over the tip.  His eyes shot open and a gasp ripped from his mouth.  You looked up; he looked down.  You didn’t mind him watching as you went further down, letting your tongue flick lightly against him.

 

He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself.  He let go of you to drag a hand down his face, flicking away sweat.  He made a fist and held it against the door behind him, rolling his head back as he held in the moans.  But you didn’t want him holding back.  You just wanted his pleasure.

 

You slowly gained confidence.  Not enough to go too far or too fast, but enough to lick him and stroke him at once.  There was no flavor, you soon realized, but the electricity was more sensitive to your tongue than your hand.  You watched him struggle for a few moments longer.  You didn’t know where the need to  _ hear _ him was coming from, but it was strong.

 

“Still good?”  You kept stroking through the question.

 

“i-i’m…”  Opening his mouth enough to speak made room for a rough groan to sneak out.  You shivered at the sound.  “i’m fucking close, naya, i...sh- _ shit _ , you’re…”

 

You confidence had only led you this far, so with a last, gentle suck, you rose to your feet and kept your hand wrapped around him.  You stayed over his eye level, pumping and picking up speed gradually as you gazed down at him.  You hooked your other hand through his ribcage to hold him close.  He went repeatedly from limp to tense, his attempts to hold back the noise steadily failing.

 

“fuck, naya…” he hissed.

 

You went faster.  You leaned more over him and he shrunk below you, reaching up to hold your arms for support.  You wondered at the sensation of being so utterly in control of him, and that he’d willingly put himself under that control.  That was something you’d never had in sex.  For a moment before he reached his peak, you just watched each other, and after all the rush, all the desire, the last look he gave you was one of trust.  And then he cried against you and pushed into his orgasm.

 

You stayed standing there for several moments after, savoring the ragged breaths he took to bring himself down, and then you rolled to lean against the wall beside him.  You watched him quietly as his chest heaved and his erection slowly disappeared.

 

He eventually turned to meet your eyes.  A few more seconds of panting, then you covered your mouth, he let out a snort, and both of you slid to the floor laughing.  You leaned against each other and linked hands, shaking your heads.  The embarrassment had held off only long enough for you both to finish, and you guessed that at least was a blessing.

 

“What was  _ that _ ?” you giggled, putting a hand to your forehead.

 

“awesome.”

 

“Well  _ yeah. _  But I’m never like...y’know.”

 

His smile grew.  He looked into the distance, thinking, and the blue strengthened a bit on his cheeks.  “what’s the politest way to phrase it.”

 

“Phrase what,” you muttered, already afraid of what he would say.

 

He snapped his fingers.  “domineering.”

 

Again, you burst out laughing, covering your face with both hands and shying away from him.

 

“no, what, no, don’t be like that!” he snickered, trying to turn you back toward him.  “it’s a good thing!”

 

“ _ Oh my god _ , it’s so weird, I’m so weird, agh…”

 

“seriously, don’t say that.”  He took your wrists and pulled them away, smiling at you.  “you’re amazing.  that was fucking  _ good _ , naya.”

 

Your gut rolled happily.  The compliments were another new sex thing you’d have to get used to.  You blushed shyly and whispered, “You sure?”

 

“ _ hell _ yes, jesus, like…”  He grinned dopily through the blush.  “shove me into a closet  _ any damn time _ .”

 

It was only then that your surroundings really registered.  You looked around with a frown.  “Uh...you know this isn’t a permanent solution, right?”

 

He looked with you.  “what?  the smell of bleach not do it for you?”

 

You snorted.

 

“you don’t think the spiderwebs are sexy?”

 

“Ew, ew, ew, you’re making it worse, ew.”

 

“cuz honestly i think i might be kinda into janitor play--”

 

You jumped to your feet.  “ _ Enough. _ ”

 

He quickly followed you, laughing at your disgusted face, and pulled you into a hug.  Just like that, it didn’t matter where you were.  A utility closet had suddenly become the most romantic place in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't even look myself in the face anymore, dear god


	60. Wait Just Hear Me Out Ok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me! writing another chapter so fast, haha, lookit her go. the rascal.
> 
>  
> 
> [this is my tumblr it's stinky there](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)  
> [this is my podcast we talk about idris elba shooting holy water tommy guns](https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/rotten-tomato-soup/id1308119286?mt=2)

It was the day before the school semester would begin, and to you it felt like your time to take things at your own pace had run out.  Tomorrow would be your working interview as an aide.  That meant no more settling in, no more staying home, no more excuses to stand still.  Life was moving on.  You were pleased to find that the nerves were overpowered by the general anticipation, in spite of everything.  So many changes moving forward, and all of them were positive.

 

But today, you were opting to look back.

 

You frowned down at your phone uncomfortably.  You were sitting on your bed, waiting for Sans to give you a ride to your destination.  You typed in a message.

 

**A gym?  Really?**

 

A few seconds, then a reply.

 

**hell yea get swol my dudee**

 

You snorted, and before you could type anything else, you heard a knock at the door.

 

“‘s me.”

 

You loudly gasped, “Don’t come in, I’m naked!”

 

The door slammed open to reveal Sans, eyes wide and grin wolfish.  You burst out laughing and rolled back on your bed when his look fell into dramatic disappointment at your modest exercise clothes.

 

“liar,” he accused, and your giggling grew to a shriek when he came over to give you a hard, sudden kiss, peppering more down your neck and along your shoulder.

 

Every since your now dubbed “closet incident,” the floodgates for affection seemed to have opened between you.  Any caution he’d been exhibiting for your sake while you let your weird emotions sort out was fading, and you weren’t about to complain.

 

“Agh, stop, stop!” you laughed, pushing back against him.  “Just because we’re the only ones here--”

 

“that’s  _ precisely  _ why.”

 

“Em is waiting on me!”

 

She'd texted you the day before and demanded you catch up.  You'd agreed, but her suggestion to meet up at a gym was uncharacteristic.  You couldn't remember the last time you'd attempted a work out.

 

He finally relented, standing up and pulling you to your feet in the same motion.  He rolled his eyes and said, “i know, i know.  it’s cool.  i’ll just sit at home…”

 

“Sans.”

 

“wallowing without you.”

 

You snorted, “Seriously?”

 

“probably masturbating.”

 

You let out another ugly laugh, feeling his love shine out in the grin he gave back to you.  You adored the way he always looked so proud when you laughed at his jokes.

 

your phone lit up with another text.   **where u at girrrrrrrrl??????**

 

You gave him an apologetic look.  “But really, she’s waiting.”

 

He opened his arms.  “hop aboard.”

 

You smiled, hugged him, and squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden lurch, the sudden change of sound and atmosphere, and you relaxed.  Every jump got easier.  This time you didn’t even feel nauseous.

 

You turned to look up at the building.  The walls were almost entirely glass, giving you a look in at all the more fit, more beautiful people working out inside.  The place was absolutely packed.  Finally, you let yourself feel nervous.

 

“O-okie dokie, this is where we’re meeting, so…”

 

You paused, and only after he cleared his throat did you realize you hadn’t made any move to let go of him.

 

“Oh.  Ok, ok, I’ll uh.”  You reluctantly dropped your arms and gave him a tense smile.  “I’ll just text you?  To pick me up, if I need it?”

 

He searched your eyes for a moment, then with more tenderness he took your hands again and bumped your foreheads.  You took a deep breath.

 

“you sure you don’t want me hanging around?”

 

It was hard to confront, but this would be your first time being out in Ebott without him.  No escape routes, no comfort, just you and your hometown.  You’d been trying not to think about it, but even though you were nervous, you felt like this was necessary.  You didn’t want to rely on him just to be able to leave the house.

 

You sighed, “I’m sure.  I’ll be good, I will.  Just…could you just…”

 

“my phone’s gonna be on.  i’m not doing anything today.”

 

“...Ok.  Ok, good.”

 

He gave you a reassuring smile, a soft kiss, and said, “love you.”

 

“Love you, too.”

 

He waited for you to reach the door, gave you a last wave, then he was gone.  Walking inside you were hit with dubstep music being blasted over the speakers, the sound of machines whirring, and the stuffiness of a room full of people still committed to New Years resolutions.  Right away, the feeling of being lost started to threaten you.  You froze in the doorway, eyes instinctually checking for familiar faces, and for a second, your feet wanted to carry you right back out.

 

“ _ There _ you are, dorkus!”

 

Her voice drove the feeling away instantly.  You turned and grinned in relief when Em waved at you from behind the check-in desk.  Her short blue hair was messed and sweaty, but somehow, her makeup was impeccable as ever.  She wore a muscle tee that proved your suspicions correct--she’d built up extra muscle as an adult.  A  _ lot _ of muscle.  You had trouble keeping yourself from staring as you walked toward her.

 

“Hey hey,” you said, voice only slightly timid.  “I made it.”

 

She gave you a once over, then barked out a laugh.  “Wait, did you think we were gonna  _ work out _ ?”

 

You cocked your head, gave a pointed look around, and said, “You...you asked me here.”

 

“I  _ work _ here!”  She slung a duffle bag from a locker behind the desk and cocked an eyebrow at you.  “I’m just clocking out, actually.”

 

“Oh.”  You perked up.

 

She laughed again.  “Wow, don’t look so devastated.”

 

You slipped into a familiar indignance.  “Ok, not all of us grew up to be  _ beasts _ .  Like…”  You indicated her biceps.  “Like who the hell are you even?”

 

“You like em?”  She gave you a gratuitous flex and winked.  “This one’s Hooch, right one’s Turner.”

 

You snorted into a hand.  “The fuck…?”

 

She gave a few more goofy poses, until you were full out laughing.  She was still just as talented at putting you at ease.

 

“Ok, enough foreplay, I’m hungry.”  Em marched from behind the desk and past you, not stopping to see if you were following.  She received several nods and finger guns on her way out--even here, she was popular.  Some things never changed.

 

“So you’re a meathead now?” you asked, almost struggling to keep up with her long legs and fast pace.

 

“Proud and true,” she replied, grabbing a coat from a rack near the door.  “It’s this whole new thing I’m trying.”

 

You went outside, and Em let out a loud curse at the wall of cold that hit you, hurrying into her coat.

 

“I thought you were studying like...rocket...biology, or whatever smart people study.”

 

“Chemical engineering.”

 

“Right.  That.”

 

“Yeah, well, I was totally gonna.  Until... _ the incident _ .”  She looked darkly into the distance.

 

You balked.  “O-oh?”

 

“I’ll tell you all about it when I get some fucking  _ food _ up in this, where the  _ hell  _ did I park.”

 

She stood with her hands on her hips at the edge of the parking lot, scanning in vain.  It only took you two seconds to pick out the same old Lexus she’d been driving since high school, the one you always said made you feel like a grandpa.

 

“That one?”

 

“ _ Ha! _  Good eye.  Let’s roll.”

 

Climbing into that car and being hit with the same leathery smell was the most surreal experience so far.  Instantly, you expected her to start blaring  _ Spice Girls _ , roll down the windows and sing loud and terrible on your way to get McFlurries.  Instantly, you were sixteen again.

 

But the radio turned on to Mettaton’s latest hit, it was too cold to bring the windows down, and even though Em made it easy to reconnect, it had still been long enough to leave you out of step.  Things were different, things were the same.  In spite of the comfort you’d found in the last week, the combination was sending you spinning toward weirdness again.

 

So you were quiet.  You traced a hand over the upholstery’s stitching and looked out the window as she drove.

 

Suddenly, Emily slammed a hand on the steering wheel.  You jumped

 

“You know what I’m in the  _ fucking  _ mood for?” she said, looking at you intently.

 

“N-no?”

 

“Bad-rritos.”

 

You blinked, then the memories came rushing back of the cheap Mexican place you used to frequent, and the California burritos that were addictively disgusting.  Your eyes widened.

 

“ _ Yes. _ ”

 

“Right?” she enthused.

 

“Hell yes hell yes.  We gotta go.”

 

“Fucking yes.”  She turned down a road leading toward the neighborhood you used to share.  “I’ve been trying to hit all the old places.  Surprised how many are still kicking.”

 

“Wait, so...how long have you been back in town?”

 

“Almost a month now.  But I haven’t been back since literally high school.  Spent the last few months in Japan with my dad's family but now  _ that _ feels like it was years ago.”  She snorted.  “Crazy, right?  How it’s like you never fucking left.”

 

You looked at her.  She was leaning back, relaxed with just one hand on the wheel.  Her eyes followed all the landmarks you recognized, and every one brought a quizzical lilt to her grin.  No weirdness, no nerves, just a face of remembering.  She had nothing to fear.

 

“I, uh...I just got in a little over a week ago.”

 

She turned to you, eyebrows raised.  “ _ You _ were roaming?  For real?”

 

“H-ha, yeah, for a minute there.”

 

“No way!  God, we’ve got so much to cover, dude.”

 

You swallowed.

 

The restaurant wasn’t far, and it hadn’t changed in five years.  Em was almost bouncing with excitement walking in, muttering, “Can I get two?  Yeah, yes, y’know what?  I’m getting two.  I’m gonna fucking  _ slam  _ these boys.”

 

“Jesus, I can barely eat like...a fourth of one.”

 

“More for me then.”

 

The bad-rritos were the same too, smelling amazing and horrifying in equal measure.  You sat down and looked dubiously at Em’s two burritos.

 

She cracked her knuckles and cocked her head at you.  “What?  Don’t think I’m man enough?”

 

“That’s the thing.  I’m pretty sure you  _ are _ , and it terrifies me.”

 

“Damn right.”

 

Only a few seconds in, and you were already taking a break.

 

“Jesus.”

 

“Yeah, it’s super bad,” Em said around a mouthful.

 

“Like  _ worse _ though.”

 

“I love it.”

 

“I might not.”

 

You both giggled.  You pushed your burrito away as Em kept eating, distractedly ripping chunks out of your napkin and looking around.  Checking every face, same as always.

 

“So.”

 

You glanced up.

 

“Where you  _ been _ ?”  She swallowed and grinned, leaning forward.  “Last I heard you were still at EU.  What’s the dirt, where’d you go, dish it.”

 

You tensed.  You hadn’t expected to enter a minefield so immediately.  “Uh...well I just, um...I moved around.  Y’know?  Nowhere specific, just kinda drifting, I guess.”

 

She waited for you to elaborate, but you didn’t.  You just shrugged.

 

“Yeah.  Now I’m here.”

 

“Did you stick with teaching?  Or did you scorn the path of the nerd.”

 

You wanted to snicker, but you just shrunk.  “H-ha, I actually dropped out?  Yeah.  Cuz, like, student loans and shit.”

 

She took a moment to chew, and you felt your heart drop, you feared the awkwardness you were steadily summoning, but when she spoke up it was cheerfully.  “Oh totally dude, I’m  _ literally _ gonna be paying this shit off for  _ life _ .”

 

“Ouch.”

 

“Serves me right, getting an education.”

 

You jumped at the chance to change the subject.  “So you said you  _ didn’t _ go into chem...uh...chemical whatever?”

 

“Ok, yeah, so that’s the dumbest part.”  She leaned back and grinned, gesturing with her half-eaten burrito.  “I was  _ two years into  _ that shit, and then came…”  She looked completely intense.  “The incident.”

 

“O-oh.  Yeah.  You said something happened,” you said, ready to be sympathetic.

 

“I changed majors.”

 

You waited a beat, but when she went back to eating, you snorted.

 

“That was the incident?”

 

“Yup!  Took a personal fitness class as an elective, and  _ bam! _ ”  She slammed her hand on the table, drawing the eyes of the other diners.  “It hit me.  Like a bolt of fucking lightning.  I wanted to be  _ so goddamn buff _ .”

 

You deadpanned.  “You.  Emily Sasaki.”

 

“Me.”

 

“You wanted to go into...gym?”

 

“Exercise Science.”

 

“You would literally  _ bribe the coach _ to get out of P.E.”

 

“My body wasn’t ready.”  She finished her burrito, brushed off her hands, and started unwrapping the second one.  “But it was like, one of those burning bush moments, like god looked down from her cloud and was like, ‘Bitch you better  _ work _ .’”

 

You shook your head, still in shock.

 

“And I fucking  _ worked _ , dude, I got my Master’s and everything.”

 

“ _ They have those?! _ ”

 

“Crazy, right?  Right now I’m just doing personal training, and I’m still not sure if I wanna go for athletic training or physical therapy, but like...it’s right, y’know?”  Her eyes lit up the more she talked about it.  “It’s right for me.  I feel awesome and hungry all the time.  And you get to work with people and help them be better and shit?  It’s so dope.  Plus, I’m like at least  _ eight _ times hotter shredded, maybe ten.”

 

You kept staring at her, and for the first time, you  _ did  _ notice a difference.  Not just the blue hair, not just the muscles, but there was this air of purpose that hadn’t existed before.

 

Emily had always been that person who breezed through school effortlessly.  She was a natural at studying, the smartest kid you’d ever met, and she could charm her way through any situation.  But you couldn’t say she’d ever really  _ cared _ .  She’d been as lazy as any teenager.  She hadn’t been this driven, passionate woman with a straight back and a brisk walk.  You suddenly felt like sixteen year old Naya was having lunch with a  _ real _ grown-up, and you couldn’t help feeling self-conscious.

 

“I mean...you do look eight times hotter.  So congrats.”

 

“Thanks!”  She grinned through her food, but suddenly fell into intensity again and pointed at you.  “Wait.  You’re still doing music, right?”

 

You leaned away, staring at the finger.  “Not...not really?  Not professionally or--”

 

“ _ What?! _ ”  Again, she drew everyone’s attention, and from the look of the cooks behind the counter you were pretty sure that was strike two.  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

 

“I still play!  I’m just not busking cafes and shit anymore, I just...y’know.  I just play.”

 

She glared.  “ _ Naya _ .  Seriously?  Dude, I  _ decided _ to get bulked up, and, like, I worked for it…”  She shook her burrito at you.  “But you’re here for  _ one fucking thing _ .”

 

“Uh.”

 

“We started guitar at the same fucking time, same class, and you were playing Jesus-shitting  _ concertos _ by the time we were eight.  And I was having trouble with like... _ Wheels On The Bus _ , or whatever.”

 

You were starting to blush.  “That’s an exaggeration.”

 

“Not by much.”

 

You hesitated, then smirked at her.  “No.  Guess not.”

 

“See?”  She finally leaned back, still shaking her head at you.  “Unbelievable.  If you don’t get back in that saddle, I will personally tell Bob you failed him.”

 

You winced.  Bob was your old guitar teacher, and possibly the nicest human being to ever live.  “Woah, woah, don’t.  Ok.  Ok, I’ll...I dunno.  I’ll play for your personal trainees, or some shit.”

 

She nodded.  “Damn straight you will.”

 

You gave her an eye roll and a smile, then you tried to keep picking at the bad-rrito.  It really was terrible.

 

“Ok, enough pussyfooting, time for the real shit.”

 

You tensed again.

 

“How the  _ hell _ did you land a monster?”

 

Your blush returned.  Another difficult subject, but in an entirely different way.

 

“Like that’s the whole reason I came back,” she went on.  “This place is  _ poppin’ _ ever since the mountain opened up.  Everybody wants to be right here.  Everybody wants to be where the monsters are.”

 

You cocked your head.  “Really?”

 

“ _ Yes _ .”  She bore into you, burrito forgotten.  “Spill.  What’s the story.”

 

“I...I don’t...I mean, it’s nothing  _ crazy _ .  We met at the last city I was in and...yeah?”

 

She shook her head and threw up her arms in exasperation.  “Typical.”

 

“What?”

 

“You  _ always _ land the exciting shit!  Like that professor.”

 

Your blush turned to a chill.  

 

“What even happened with her?”

 

She’d brought it up so easily.  She didn’t know.  She had no idea.  To her it was just another college story, another fling.  You tried not to hold it against her, and you tried not to fall apart.  She was looking at you so earnestly that instead of the usual full-stop that thinking of Rachel brought on, your mind came up with a different solution.  One that always seemed too easy.

 

“Can we not talk about it?”

 

She quieted.  She looked between your eyes for a moment, and you felt your heart racing at the fear that she would pursue it.  To you it felt like minutes passed, but she didn’t hesitate.  She didn’t change her probing grin.  She forged on.

 

“Ok, but a skeleton?  Is that, like, weird?”

 

You’d never gone from tense to relaxed so quickly when it came to Rachel.  You tried not to make the sigh of relief too obvious as you replied, “Not even a little.”

 

“Does he have a dick.”

 

“ _ Em! _ ”

 

“What!”  She opened her arms innocently.  “It’s a legitimate question, dude doesn’t even have skin!”

 

“Ok, first off, rude.”  You folded your arms, settling backward and looking away.  “...And second, yes.”

 

She screamed with laughter, and this time, there were enough annoyed coughs and stares that you felt obligated to lead her out of the restaurant, howling all the way.

 

“ _ How?! _ ”

 

“Nope.  That’s all you’re getting.”

 

“No!  You’re so evil!”

 

“Yup.”  You kept walking determinedly back to her car, ignoring her begging.  “His secrets are safe with me.”

 

You worried she might cry from disappointment as she slumped into the driver’s side, and you laughed at the childish pout she gave you.  Talking about him, as embarrassing as it could be, was  _ so much better _ than anything else you could talk about.  He was the best part of your life right now, and you didn’t mind sharing.

 

She rolled her head toward you and glared.  You giggled.  She slouched further into her coat and sighed, “ _ Fine _ .  I won’t ask about your boyfriend’s  _ impossible penis _ .”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Do you love him though?”

 

You met her eyes.  You would never understand how she could ask questions like that with such an honest face, and how she was able to make it seem normal.

 

“Yeah.”  Your giddy little smiles grew in sync.  “I really, really do.”

 

“My baby girl.  In love with a monster.”  She put the car in drive and wiped a fake tear.

 

For the rest of the car ride, you talked about him.  You didn't mind the inappropriate questions she kept asking, you loved every squeal she let out, and you kept feeling so, so relieved that you had this, that you had  _ him _ , to brag about.

 

“I'm so goddamn jealous,” she said as you started to pull forward Toriel’s house.  “Does he have a sister?  I'd even take a brother at this point.”

 

“He's got a brother, but uh...pretty sure that wouldn't work.  He's great, he's super great, but I don't think that's his scene.”

 

“I'll just have to get me a different monster beau.”  She pulled into the driveway and grinned competitively.  “A cuter one.”

 

“Impossible.”

 

She put the car in park and got out with you, breathing, “Woah.  This where you live?”

 

You still felt a little uncomfortable claiming Toriel’s hospitality, but you said, “Yeah.  For now, at least.  I’m staying with friends.”

 

She lingered for a moment to appreciate the backyard’s view of the ocean, while you headed toward the door.

 

“You wanna come in for a minute, or…?”

 

Without looking away she replied, “Nah, I gotta jet.  But we definitely  _ definitely  _ should…”

 

As she turned toward you, toward the house, her words trailed off.  You cocked your head at her wide eyes, then turned to follow her line of sight.  It was just the house.  Toriel was waving at you from the kitchen window, wearing oven mitts and a frilly apron.  You waved back.

 

“That’s the friend,” you said as Toriel disappeared from the window.

 

“Who  _ is _ she?”

 

“It’s...wait.”  You immediately turned suspicious and turned on Emily.  You recognized that tone of voice too well.  “What’re you--”

 

“Anaya!  Welcome home!”

 

“Hey, Tori,” you said, still squinting at Em.

 

Toriel cocked her head sweetly, wiping her hands on her apron.  “And who is this?”

 

Before you could introduce her, Em was striding forward and offering a hand.  You bristled at the smile you knew she called her “smolder-er.”  She said, “It’s Emily.  Hi.  Wow.”

 

Toriel tossed you a quick look of uncertainty before taking her hand.  “A pleasure to meet you.  You are one of Anaya’s friends, I assume?”

 

“We go  _ way _ back.  I taught her everything she knows.”

 

You wanted to kick her.  That tone of voice.  That look.  You’d been her awkward wingman way too many times not to recognize it, and like so many of those times, you were the one to drag her away.  You took her arm and pointedly said, “Yup, way back.  But she was just leaving.”

 

“But--”

 

You were already pushing her to the car, while Toriel, still looking confused, said, “Erm, it was wonderful meeting you, Emily!”

 

The moment you were out of earshot you hissed, “Dude.  Seriously?”

 

She was still wiggling her fingers at Toriel, a charming grin on her face.

 

“Can’t I like...put a ban on my friends?  It  _ never  _ goes well when you go after my friends.”

 

“She’s so  _ big _ .”

 

You rolled your eyes, guiding her to the driver’s side.

 

“Dude, like really, really big.”

 

“Yeah, I know.  She’s also a mom.  And a principal.  And I think probably, definitely not looking for a thing right now.”

 

She climbed in the seat and said, “Have you asked?”

 

You blinked and frowned.  “N...no?”

 

Her grin grew, and before she shut the door she laughed, “Then how do you know?”

 

She drove off before you could retort, leaving you to give her a last disapproving look as she drove off, which gradually turned to a smile.  It was almost comforting.  Even after growing up and becoming responsible, her incessant flirting was was as annoying as ever.

 

“Well she was certainly confident.”

 

You turned back to Toriel, who had one eyebrow raised.  You snorted, “That’s one way to describe her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK LISTEN. hear me out. hear me out. hear me out. hear me out. hear me o


	61. Baby's First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO TIME TO WRITE AN INTRO GOTTA GO PLAY PUBG MBYE
> 
>  
> 
> [TUMBLR](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)  
> [PODCAST](https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/rotten-tomato-soup/id1308119286?mt=2)

You woke to the loud bang of your door slamming open, then the sudden weight of someone jumping on your bed.

 

“Woah, woah, the hell is--”

 

You looked up at Frisk standing on the foot of your bed.  You yelped when they dropped down at the waist until they were on all fours over you, legs and arms straight.  They grinned inches from your face.

 

You scrambled back instinctually, barely conscious.  “What are you--”

 

They quickly dropped back to their knees to sign,  **TIME FOR SCHOOL TIME FOR SCHOOL** _ ,  _ while doing a little dance for emphasis.

 

You ran a hand down your face and groaned, “Ugh.  Right.  Ok, just tell me now, is it gonna be like this every morning?  Because that’s not gonna--”

 

They were already rolling off the bed and out the door.  You were left to sigh and look down at Pickles, who still sat calmly by your pillow.  His green eyes remained unfazed by the intrusion.

 

“Oh, don’t rub it in,” you grumbled, swinging your legs to the floor.  “You don’t  _ have _ to go to work.  You’re just a stupid cat.”

 

He blinked.

 

“Yeah yeah, love you too.”

 

Frisk was still bouncing around the house when you went to shower and brush your teeth.  You could hear them drag Toriel awake, and her sleepy voice as she started on breakfast.  It was still dark by the time you were dressed, ready, and sitting down at the kitchen counter.  You scowled out the window as Toriel set some eggs in front of you.  For almost two weeks, you’d been able to sleep at  _ least _ until the sun was up, and just that short amount of time was enough to throw you off.

 

“Coffee?” Toriel asked, still wearing her robe.

 

“Yes,” you grumbled back.

 

She chuckled as she poured you the appropriate amount of creamer.  “Not a morning person, I take it?”

 

“It’s not that.”  You took the coffee and held it in your hand for a moment, squinting down at the steam rising from it.  “Just not used to there being  _ other people _ around in the morning.”

 

“Mm.”  She sipped her own mug and looked toward the hallway.  Frisk was flitting around with as much energy as ever, getting their backpack together and trying on what was going on four different outfits.  “Truly, their enthusiasm is unmatched.”

 

You were done with breakfast by the time they emerged wearing a shockingly cohesive slacks, dress shirt and vest combo, with a thin black tie.  They opened their arms to you and spun to show it off.

 

“You look straight up dapper, dude,” you said with an impressed nod.

 

“Very fine!”

 

They grinned and pumped a fist.

 

Soon the Hoepfulls were ready.  Frisk had topped off the outfit with a much more characteristic blue faux-fur coat, underneath which was a front-facing backpack.  You could guess who was inside, but for the time being, he was being quiet.

 

The car ride was spent trying to pay attention as Frisk listed off way too many classmates for you to remember.  You arrived earlier than the students, just as the sky was starting to brighten.  You recognized Undyne’s jeep amidst the faculty cars.

 

Frisk skipped ahead of you and Toriel.  She took the moment to give you a side smile and ask, “Are you excited for your first day?”

 

“Excited...and nauseous?  I think?”  You held your stomach and looked confused.

 

She laughed.  “Do not worry, my friend.  All you need to do today is observe.”

 

Simone was sitting at the front desk when you entered.  Tyler sat on a nearby bench; it looked like he was drawing something.  Frisk quickly went to him while Simone waved you over with a grin.

 

“Hey hey, look who’s back!” she beamed.

 

“Yup,” you said, praying your nerves weren’t too obvious.  “Couldn’t stay away.”

 

“Thank goodness for that.”  Her smile turned warm.  “Can’t wait to have you in our crazy work-family.”

 

“She’s ALREADY family!”

 

You had no time to brace yourself before Undyne came bursting out of the front office.  Almost instantly, her sharkish grin was squishing up against you as she gave you a bear hug.

 

“You’re MEANT to work here, dork!” she cackled, letting up so you could breathe.  “If you don’t, I’ll freaking RIOT.”

 

You smoothed out your ruffled shirt and weakly tried to say, “I don’t  _ technically  _ work here yet, I haven’t--”

 

Undyne glared.

 

“Ok.  Ok, yeah, nevermind, here I am.  Working.”

 

“You  _ are  _ one of us.”  Toriel stood on your other side and put a hand on your shoulder.  “But it is a new place.  You will get used to it, no need to push yourself.”

 

It was clear that your nerves  _ were  _ obvious, what with all the reassuring looks everyone was giving you, but there was warmth in their concern that let you sigh with relief.

 

“I’m good.  I’ll be good,” you said, giving them a tentative smile.  “Just gotta meet a bunch of kids, right?”

 

Undyne grinned.  “A bunch of the BEST kids in the valley!”

 

“That they are,” Simone chuckled, tossing a fond look at Tyler and Frisk.

 

“Right!”  Toriel clapped her paws together.  “To our stations then!”

 

Undyne saluted and headed to the gym.  Tyler and Frisk grabbed their backpacks and went down the hall, splitting off to go to their respective classrooms.  Simone stayed standing in front of the desk.

 

“You will keep an eye on things?” Toriel asked her.

 

She winked.  “No problemo.”

 

Toriel started to lead you down the hall.  You watched the children’s drawings that decorated the walls as you passed, asking, “So...what’s my station?”

 

“You will stay with me for the time being,” she said.  “I would like to introduce you to every class in turn.”

 

You balked.  “Oh.”

 

“As long as you are comfortable with that.”  She smiled at you.

 

“No, yeah, no.  Totally comfortable.”

 

She led you to the furthest classroom on the ground floor.  By the time you reached it, you could hear the chatter of children behind you, and an enthusiastic greeting from Simone.  The students were trickling in.

 

“We will start with the third graders,” Toriel said.  She entered one of the last doors in the hall, and you followed.

 

At first the room appeared empty, and then from behind the desk flitted a small monster.  She looked like a fairy with a medieval-style helmet, the visor of which was lifted to reveal a cheerful expression.  When she noticed you, she flew toward you and said in a high voice, “Hi Toriel!  Good to have you back!”  She hummed closer to you and cocked her head.  “And who’s this?”

 

“This is Anaya!”  Toriel put her hand on your shoulders as if to present you.  You gave the monster a shy smile.  “She is shadowing as an aide for today.  I thought it would be nice to introduce her to the students.  Anaya, this is Mrs. Lot.”

 

You offered a hand; hers was so small, you worried you might hurt her if you shook too hard.  “Nice to meet you.”

 

“Likewise!” she trilled.  “Please, make yourselves comfortable, the students should be coming in any minute now.”

 

You followed close behind Toriel as she went to stand near the teacher’s desk.  She chatted amicably with Mrs. Lot, but you stayed quiet.  You felt like a nervous child, trailing behind their mother and trying not to sweat too much.  It was just kids.  You could handle kids.  But the implication that this was a step toward the career you’d always wanted, the career you’d abandoned five years ago, was heavy.

 

There was giggling in the hall, then three human girls walked in with puffy coats and backpacks.  Mrs. Lot and Toriel went over to greet them right away, but you still just waited.  You watched them nervously as they took their seats, and as more students trickled in.  A pair of rowdy boys who were quickly reprimanded by Toriel; a frog-like monster whose backpack bounced around with every leap; a human and a straight up dog walking hand in hand and chatting with a mixture of English and barks.

 

Finally, everyone was seated.  The class was small, with a slight monster majority, but the sounds were that of a normal third grade class.  Giggling, chatting, and eventually hushing when Mrs. Lot and Toriel returned to the front.

 

“Welcome back, everyone!” Mrs. Lot said.  “Did you all have fun on your break?”

 

The kids practically screamed back in affirmation.

 

Mrs. Lot laughed, “Wonderful!  Now, you’ve probably noticed we have a special guest.”  She flew aside to make room for Toriel to guide you to the front of the class.

 

“Greetings, children!”  Toriel’s smile practically glowed as the class greeted her back in unison.  “I have missed you all dearly.  I have brought a special new friend, and I would like to introduce everyone.”

 

Every curious eye turned to you.  You swallowed.  Toriel was looking at you expectantly, so you cleared your throat and gave a shaky smile.

 

“H-howdy.  Howdy doo,” you started.  “I’m Nay...um.  I guess, Miss Srivastava…?  If that’s…”  You looked helplessly at Toriel, whose smile was growing a bit humored.  “Or Miss Naya?”

 

“It is whichever you are comfortable with, my friend.”

 

“Cool.  Cool cool cool, then hi, hey, I’m Miss Naya,” you said to everyone.  A few of them were starting to giggle, which only made you realize how silly you were being.  These were kids.  You had absolutely no reason to be intimidated.  Your smile steadied as you added, “Like as in, ‘hiya Miss Naya!’”

 

They all laughed.  Some shouted, “Hiya Miss Naya!” back at you.

 

“Miss Naya is going to going to be a very, very special helper for us.”  Toriel gave you a pointed nod.

 

You’d discussed this beforehand, but the nerves came back full force as you nodded back and extended an upturned palm.  Your eyes flitted over the kids for a moment.  You’d now done this countless times with Toriel, but never with such an audience.

 

You breathed in.  You found your soul inside you, gave it a brief reassurance, and then breathed out.  In your palm, a tiny plume of golden fire appeared.

 

All the kids gasped, oo-ing and ah-ing and leaning over their desks to get a better look.  You heard Mrs. Lot squeak in surprise.

 

Toriel’s eyes beamed with pride as she explained, “As you can see, Miss Naya is just like all of you!  I know that it can be difficult to understand your magic sometimes, so she is here to help you all, and let you know that all it takes is a little practice!”

 

Your eyes picked out the humans in the class.  They especially were entranced by you, some of them even looking down at their own hands and chests and grinning.  You warmed at the sight, and as if in reaction, the fire flared.  It roared out of your hand for a moment, tiny golden sparks coming off it like dust, and then it extinguished.  There was a pause, then cheering, and then all the students were leaving their seats to approach you.

 

“ _ Woah _ , how’d ya make it so  _ big _ ??”

 

“Humans can do fire?  They really,  _ really  _ can?”

 

“Can you do it again?”

 

“Can you show me how?”

 

“ _ Teach me! _ ”

 

You were overwhelmed, but for the first time, it wasn’t a bad feeling.  These kids were looking at you with stars in their eyes.  You didn’t know how to answer; you looked at Toriel for guidance.  She just grinned back and nodded.

 

“I mean…” you said hesitantly.  “...yeah.  Yeah, I’ll teach you.  That’s why I’m here, right?”

 

The class cheered again, and the stars in their eyes spread all the way to yours.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the meetings went similarly, all the way up to sixth grade.  You went in a class, met the teacher, introduced yourself and produced a fire.  You gained more confidence with every demonstration, making bigger flames or one in each hand.  By the time you’d made the rounds, it was almost lunch, and all the magic use had tired you out.  A very proud Toriel had invited you to the faculty room, but you wanted to relax and eat in your usual way.

 

So now you sat outside while the kids played for recess.  You ate the somehow still-hot lunch Toriel had made you and leaned back against the bench, familiarizing yourself with the playground.  You sighed contentedly.

 

A pair of hands suddenly covered your eyes.

 

You let out an undignified yelp and jumped away.  Behind you, Frisk was now grinning and giving a thumbs up, still looking handsome in their suit and furry coat.

 

“Rude!” you scolded with a laugh.  “Can’t you see I’m trying to relax?”

 

They kept cackling as they came around to plop down beside you.  You noticed they weren’t wearing a backpack.

 

“Where’s Flowey?”

 

**Inside,** they answered, smiling out at the other students.   **Not in a good mood today.**

 

“When is he ever in a good mood?”

 

Frisk shrugged.  For a moment, you thought you saw their brow furrow, but then they whipped back on you and signed,  **Having fun yet?!**

 

“Actually?  Yes.”

 

**Everyone already thinks you’re the coolest thing ever.**  They pointed toward a group of kids who were waving excitedly at you.  You waved back.   **Nobody can do magic like that.  Not yet.**

 

“Well, sure.  It’s not like we’ve ever had schools for that before this one.”

 

**Nope.  It’s like Hogwarts but for real.**

 

You laughed.  “I guess it kinda is.”

 

They kicked their feet and put a hand over their chest.   **Yeah.  Other schools didn’t like it when I did weird stuff.**  They grinned at you.   **But here we’re** **_supposed_ ** **to be weird!**

 

You returned the smile, but something in their words stood out to you.  You knew Frisk was a sorcerer like you, and apparently like every other kid at this school, but had you ever seen them show it off?  Aside from the impossibly bright glow of their soul, when had they used magic around you?

 

“What kinda ‘weird stuff’ would you do?” you asked.

 

They looked at you, and for a reason you didn’t know, a reason you couldn’t quite remember, their red eyes made you balk.  You felt like they were scratching something at the back of your mind.  They blinked, and the feeling was gone.

 

**It’s…**  They stopped to think.   **It’s kind of hard to explain.** They frowned, their expression unreadable.  You cocked your head and tried to determine why this conversation made you feel so strange, but then they said,  **Plus, I don’t really do that stuff anymore.**

 

“Why not?”

 

**Because I don’t need to.**

 

You looked at each other with an unusual stillness, but a moment later the bell was summoning everyone back to class.

 

**Shoot!**  They got up and went right back to their normal chipper self.   **Better get back to Flowey before anyone else does.**

 

You waved at them, not quite able to smile back.  Your mind was suddenly trying so, so hard to remember...something.  But you had no idea what.

 

As you were getting up, another hand surprised you from behind.

 

“boo.”

 

Your smile finally found you.  You turned, and Sans grinned up at you as you went immediately into his arms.

 

“ha ha, woah, hey.  what will the kids think?”

 

“Lucky janitor?”

 

Still holding you, he asked, “good first day then?”

 

You nodded into his shoulder.  “Mm.  Really, really good.  I made a bunch of fire.”

 

“no shit?”

 

“Yes shit.”

 

He laughed.  You pulled back to look at him.  He was wearing a jumpsuit similar to what you wore at your old job.

 

“Nice duds,” you snorted.

 

“yeah?”  He turned to the side and raised an eyebrow at you.  “don’t think it makes me look too fat?”

 

“No.  Just the right amount of fat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUH THAT WAS WEIRD HUH WONDER WHAT SHE CAN'T REMEMBER


	62. Super Hella Sick n' Rad Dance Moves/???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH naya CALLABUNGA and shit! WET WET STUNTS yo!!
> 
> [click here for more wet stunts over at my House](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)   
>  [this here's a podcast i make with my friends about movies the stunts are even WETTER](https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/rotten-tomato-soup/id1308119286?mt=2)

You stared at the fire in your hands.  You could maintain it for a long time now with little effort.  Extinguishing it and igniting it was still tiring, but not dangerously so.  The longer it burned, and the closer you looked, the more evident the gold tinge became.  Something you didn’t see in natural fire; a subtle, personal signature.  You urged it higher.  You pushed your hands together and pulled them away with two separate plumes.  You made it rise and diminish, mentally noting that the action took extra effort.  You let it lick between your fingers.

 

“Ok.  Is there a next level to this?”

 

Toriel looked up from her notes.  “Pardon?”

 

“I want to try more.”  You furrowed your brow and closed your fists, letting the yellow glow seep through your skin.  “I want to learn other kinds of magic.”

 

You were sitting at the kitchen counter for a lesson with Toriel.  Your first week of being an aide had passed, and the constant little shows of magic were already building your stamina.  It was an incredible thing to be able to practice in public.  You were already seeing a difference in how naturally the idea of fire came to you, but somehow, the comfort frustrated you.  You didn’t feel like you were getting anywhere new.

 

Toriel pursed her lips as you let the fires go out.  “Did you have anything specific in mind?”

 

“I don’t know,” you said, turning to your own notebook to scribble down some thoughts.  “I just feel like, yeah, I can keep practicing and making bigger, fancier fires,  _ or _ I could branch out.  Get my thumb in a few different pies, y’know?”

 

Toriel shook her head and chuckled.

 

“What?”

 

“No, nothing, it is just…”  She smiled wryly at your chest.  “You do not realize what a strange thing that is to request.”

 

You cocked your head.  “How so?”

 

She clasped her hands together and sat up straight.  You recognized this as her “teacher-mode.”  “Well, I have explained to you that human magic does not seem to manifest in the same way that our magic does.  You want me to teach you new things, but there is an inherent problem in the question.”

 

She watched you, like she wanted you to work it out for yourself.  You scrunched your brow.  “Um.  It’s...monsters don’t...branch out.  Do they?”

 

“Correct, though a more accurate phrasing would be that we  _ cannot  _ branch out.  Our schools of magic are predetermined, and no matter how hard I practiced, I would never be able to learn to summon spears, or manifest bones.”

 

You frowned.  “But you can heal, right?”

 

“Yes, and that is where we will start next.”  She pulled her mug of tea closer to her.  “But if you are becoming interested in other forms of magic, we will need to bring in new teachers.  Now.”  She set the tea between you.  “It is easier to imbue food during the cooking process, but we can do it now.  It will be like adding sugar.  Would you take a look?”

 

You knew what that meant.  You easily let your soul slip free, something so natural at this point, it almost felt like it  _ wanted _ to leave you, like at any other moment, the effort was expended just keeping it inside.  You looked down at the tea.

 

“This has always been innate, therefore I have trouble explaining the process.  It is far easier to show you.”  She clasped her paws and rubbed them together.  Your too-sharp eyes followed them and picked up the moment that dusty lavender magic appeared.  It was like seeing friction.

 

“I’ve watched you do this once.”

 

“Indeed.”  After building a good amount of magic in her hands, she held them over the cup.  She pinched a thumb and finger together on each hand and literally sprinkled the magic in.  “Again, this is a less effective method than, say, soaking magic into the teabag, but you will still taste the difference.”

 

She slid it toward you, and you took a sip.  Your soul made tastes sharper, too.  There was a distinct tingle across your tongue, and the tea’s warmth seeped directly into you before you’d even swallowed.

 

“You see?”

 

“Yeah.”  You put it down and studied it closer.  Purple flecks floated at the top and swirled down to the bottom when you stirred it with a spoon.  “So what are you thinking about when you do it?”

 

“Hm.”  Toriel leaned back and wove her fingers, musing, “This is why it is tricky to teach you.  You have such a strange way of manifesting your powers…”

 

“Rude.”

 

She snorted and raised a brow at you.  “No, I am not.  You simply  _ are strange _ .  This is something that I  _ know _ , I do not generally have a thought process behind it.  That would be like asking what you think about to enable yourself to sing.”

 

You took another long sip of tea and replied, “Solid point.”

 

“I suppose I think about...the excitement of giving someone else your food.  It is a special joy of mine.”

 

You gave her back her mug and grabbed your own, setting it in front of you.  You looked down at your hands.  Like Toriel, you rubbed them together and tried to envision it.  Pulling a batch of cookies out of the oven.  Setting them down on a table, still warm and gooey.  You cracked an eye open to see your hands still brown and lightless.

 

“Try to think about exactly what you want to do.”  She leaned forward, watching your soul and keeping a pen braced over her notebook.  “Your soul often behaves in a way that seems out of your control, yes?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Then  _ command _ it.”

 

You tried that.  You kept rubbing your hands as you glared at the yellow heart before you, willing it to power you, but still, nothing.  Your hands were just getting hot.

 

“Hm.  It did take you some time to grow comfortable with fire, so…”  She trailed off and started writing.

 

You were still staring at your soul.  Thinking.  You closed your eyes, still picturing it in your mind, and then you pictured Toriel.  You pictured the first time you’d seen her breathe fire to bake a pie; the Thanksgiving feast she’d made; all the breakfasts she had ready every morning.  You pictured  _ her _ smile, and  _ her  _ delight as you thanked her for a meal.

 

“Anaya, look!”

 

You opened your eyes to dusty golden hands, so much that it was falling down onto the counter of its own volition, evaporating as it hit the granite.  Almost panicked, you quickly shed as much of the dust as you could into the tea before your hands cooled down along with the magic.

 

Toriel was grinning.  “Oh, goodness, well done my friend!”

 

“Here, here, you try it,” you offered her the tea fretfully.  “Crap, you think it worked?  Crap crap, I dunno, you try it, you do it.”

 

She took a sip, and her grin spread even wider.  “It definitely worked.”

 

You pumped a fist.

 

“Incredible.”  Her pride was shifting to wonder.  “Absolutely incredible.  You appear to have  _ momentum _ .  This seemed to come much faster, I do not...goodness.  Just incredible.”  She was back to her notes, scribbling urgently.

 

Like in the early days of your magic lessons, you felt the drain instantly.  You downed the rest of Toriel’s tea to stave it off.

 

“How do you feel?”

 

“Tired for sure, but not...not like faint, or anything.”

 

“Good.”

 

She kept writing, and quietly, you let your soul recede.  You watched her for a few moments as you thought.

 

“If I can do other kinds of magic…”

 

She glanced up.

 

“Then why was it always just synesthesia growing up?  Why wasn’t I like...moving things with my mind, or making fire, or whatever?”

 

“Excellent question.”  She set down her pen and joined her hands in front of her face.  “Now...every child I have met thus far, every child attending my school, displays the same conundrum.  If you are any indication, they must have the  _ ability _ to learn other forms of magic, but throughout their lives they seem to have an initial manifestation.”

 

You nodded.  “Like Tyler, with the feelings stuff.”

 

“Precisely.  Now, my working theory is that this is where we may find some similarity with monster magic.  I believe that sorcerers are born with inherent magic, something I call their ‘spark.’  Your synesthesia, Tyler’s empathy.  It is the  _ deviation _ from these sparks that fascinates me.”  She raised the cup you’d enchanted and gazed into it.  “If you are able to utilize your magic to effects that were previously thought to be unique to individual monster species, there is no reason to believe your powers have limits  _ at all _ .”

 

“Wow.  That’s not alarming.”

 

“You are telling me.”

 

You looked out the window.  A gentle storm had been falling ever since the night before, covering the ground in powdery drifts even this close to the ocean.  Frisk was outside, wearing a backpack, puffy coat and snow-pants.  They were attempting to make as large a snowball as they could while signing to a flower who didn’t want to come out into the cold.  You watched them laugh occasionally.

 

You’d been thinking about your magic more than ever.  How much you wanted to practice it, how you planned on teaching it.  Being around these people, especially the kids, who shared this weird thing with you had brought you more comfort in coming home than anything else.  It felt like you had a  _ purpose  _ in being here.  You wanted to chase that purpose.

 

“I did do the one thing.”

 

Toriel was watching Frisk, too, but she cocked her head.  “Hm?”

 

“That first time.  I did the uh...the blue magic?”

 

You sensed her pause.  Her expression went from thoughtful to concentrated.  She nodded.  “Yes.  You did use blue magic, against all odds.”

 

“So what’s so weird about it?”  You leaned forward to try and meet her eyes.

 

“It is another case of something that should be incredibly rare and complicated.  Impossibly so.  Yet you utilized it the very first time you used magic.”  She glanced toward you, still looking pensive.  “You know, that experience is what shook my initial theories.  Pushed me to my current beliefs.”

 

You swallowed.  “Oh.  Huh.”

 

“Huh indeed.”

 

You fell back into silence and watched the snow falling softly around Frisk’s snowball.  They sat on top of it and continued to sign, too fast to follow.  The tea in your hands was growing cooler.  

 

You could do what she could do; fire and healing.  But you’d done more.  You’d thrown a person away from you; you’d teleported; and these strange practices that had come in moments of instinct were what haunted your thoughts the most.  You were mastering what she could teach you.  But what more could you learn from  _ him _ ?

 

“Is Sans…”

 

One of her ears perked.

 

“Is he, like... _ strong _ ?”

 

She smiled, but it wasn’t relaxed.  “He is...unique.  Extraordinarily so.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I am not going to divulge information about someone with whom you are  _ intimate _ ,” she snorted.

 

You wrinkled your nose.  “Ew.  Why you gotta phrase it like that?”

 

“Would you rather I use words like ‘canoodling?’  Or ‘fraternizing?’  Or--”

 

“ _ Agh,  _ stop, stop, no.”

 

Toriel laughed, you blushed, and then she stood.  She turned again to the window and stretched.  “If you are curious,” she said, “then I encourage you to learn from him.”

 

You bit your lip.  “I think I will then.”

 

“But please.”

 

She turned and fixed you with a more serious look than she’d given throughout the lesson.

 

“Take caution.”

 

You searched her eyes in confusion.  “What, like...with Sans?  What are you--”

 

“With  _ that _ magic.  It is taxing.  It is…I do not fully understand it, so...I worry.”

 

A red and blue image of Sans, hand raised and eye burning, flashed into your mind.  It didn’t sway you.  You met Toriel with an even look and said, “It’s Sans.  He’s not gonna let anything bad happen.”

 

She looked back, and finally relaxed.  She smiled.  “No.  No he will not.  Of that we can be sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can these dance moves. get even. fresher????????


	63. The Stunts Just Keep Gettin Wetter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like chilean miners rising from the mine,,,,,,,,,,,
> 
> hey ya'll. sorry bout the wait i am a tired and depressed lil stinker, u know how it be. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> [it's a tumblr or something!](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)   
>  [check it out it's a podcast, ever heard of one a those?](https://soundcloud.com/user-891528176)

The snowfall had continued into the next day, burying Ebott in quiet whiteness.  The peak of the mountain was shrouded in overcast, and the ocean was a stark blackness to the land.  Few people were out, spending the snowed-in Sunday in warmth, and you almost wished you’d chosen to do the same.

 

You and Sans walked through one of the parks dotting the slopes of the valley.  You struggled against the incline of the hiking trails, and even on the paths you trudged through snow climbing halfway up your calves.  You were prepared, decked out in full snow gear.  So your perplexion grew every time you looked back at Sans with his tennis shoes and soaked sweat pants.

 

“Aren’t you  _ cold? _ ” you huffed at one point.

 

“i’m a skeleton.”

 

“You’re a maniac.  I bet your socks are squelching and everything.”

 

He grinned up at you.  “i’m not wearing socks.”

 

“ _ Noooo.   _ You’re an  _ animal _ , jesus fucking christ.”

 

“look who’s talking, miss ‘let’s go out in the woods today instead of catching up on  _ the good place.’” _

 

You gave a miserable little stomp, squinting against the falling snow.  “Ugh, don’t, I’m already regretting this.  Fucking cold as shit, bastard-ass snow,  _ fuck. _ ”

 

He laughed, “you’re adorable when you’re cold.”

 

“No, I’m miserable.”  You stopped to peer into the surrounding trees.

 

“anywhere in particular you wanna go?”  Sans came up beside you and gave you a confused smile.  “cuz like...i can zoop zop us anywhere, we don’t really gotta walk.”

 

“Just looking for a good spot,” you murmured.  You stepped off the trail into deeper snow.  “A little farther in maybe.”

 

You hadn’t encountered anyone else, but you wanted to keep this as private and hidden as possible.  The storm and the trees would help with that.

 

“and you ate before coming?”

 

“For literally the hundreth time, yes.  I’m full.  We’re good.”

 

“just checking.”  You felt his hand on your back as he kept pace behind you.

 

You managed an appreciative look through the crankiness.  “I know.”

 

Finally you found a tucked away clearing a few turns from any trails.  It was decently level, with one break through the trees opening to a steep slope down and the opposite side thick with trees growing on the incline.  There were several tall drifts built up along the edges, causing you to struggle through to more manageable snow.  Once you reached the center, you stopped to look around with you hands on your hips and gave a satisfied nod.

 

“This’ll work.”

 

Sans spent a moment looking through the break over the valley.  You could hardly see anything through the snowfall.

 

You stood a few yards away from him, hands out of your pockets and flapping with nervous energy.  “Ready?” you asked.

 

He took a breath to turn toward you.  His expression was uncomfortable.  “promise to stop as soon as it gets too funky?”

 

“Promise.”

 

“ok.”

 

You gave a last determined look before closing your eyes and putting a hand on your chest.  You pulled it away slowly, and your soul came with it.  You gasped.  Suddenly, the chill was even more apparent.  It was as if you could feel every individual crystal of ice clinging to your nose and cheeks, yet it became more tolerable, interesting as opposed to aggravating.  You opened your eyes and adjusted to the previously blank whiteness appearing as intricate and diverse as a forest in full bloom.  If you focused, you could see each individual flake, the difference in shade between snow floating in the air and snow covering the ground.  You smelled the cold, and you even smelled the sea.  You hadn’t realized how much of it was carried in the clouds.

 

And then you saw him.  He wasn’t glowing at first, but as your eyes met, he changed his stance almost imperceptibly.  A faint, cautious blue spiraled at the center of his chest.  It concentrated there.  It waited.

 

“I’m...I’m gonna start with some fire, ok?”

 

He glanced around.  “good weather for it.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

You summoned a small plume in each hand.  With your soul out, you could see the gold tinge prominently.  The heat was as detailed as the cold, licking over your skin in specific patterns and frequencies and devouring the nearby snowflakes.

 

You raised the plumes.  They stretched above your head, thin and controlled.  You cocked your head, then turned your hands upside down and contained the fires, like holding a bubble underwater.  You dropped to a crouch and pressed into the snow, concentrating on supplying heat so that the fires survived through the snow-melt, until you reached all the way to the grass underneath.

 

“don’t tire yourself out on fire.”

 

You looked up at him.  He hadn’t moved, still watching you intently.

 

“cuz the other stuff’s gonna take a lot.”

 

“I don’t feel tired at all.”  You came back to your feet and shook out the flames.  Being out in the storm wasn’t your idea of fun, but you were testing a theory.  Cold always made you tense, sharp, and attentive.  You wondered if it would help you focus your magic, and just from those initial tests, it did seem to be helping.  “Just a couple more things.”

 

You’d seen Toriel do this, but you’d never attempted anything like it.  You summoned fire in one hand, and willed it into a ball separated from the skin.  It complied.  You brought it close to your face and studied it, grinning at the clear separation from hand and flame.  It was floating in a specified shape.  That was new.

 

You looked to your left and found a snow drift.  You stretched out your hand, palm facing out, and willed the fire to leave you.  Nothing happened.

 

“what’re you trying to do?”

 

“Just...hold on.”  You squinted, and willed it again.  Still nothing.

 

From the corner of your eye you saw the blue glow brighten a little.  “careful.”

 

You stared harder into the fire.  You watched snowflakes shrink to steam as they fell into it.  You felt hot waves flicker over your hand, and when you closed your eyes, you heard the microscopic sizzle of evaporation.  And somewhere deep, deep in that sensation, you felt the pleasure of  _ burning _ .

 

The fireball shot from your hand and into the snowdrift, sizzling as it burrowed a hole through it before extinguishing.

 

“Aw,  _ dope _ ,” you chuckled, giving Sans a proud look.

 

He couldn’t look anything but worried.  “you good still?  don’t feel too drained?”

 

You glanced down at your bright soul and grinned.  “Still good!”

 

He said nothing for a beat, another, then he sighed.  “ok.  ok.”

 

You were filled with energy.  Toriel was right--you had  _ momentum _ .  Learning was getting easier, and practicing was enjoyable.  You danced from boot to boot and pulled down the hood of your coat.  You didn’t feel cold at all.

 

Sans’ light dimmed a bit, and he looked at the ground.

 

“Hey!” you laughed.

 

He raised a brow at you.

 

“Don’t worry,” you said, the energetic dance transferring to your arms, “about a thing.  Cuz every little thing…”

 

The blue flared a bit.  Sans snorted, and you saw the start of a smile.

 

“Is gonna be alright,” you continued to sing.  You grin was growing and you were dancing closer to him.  “Singin’ don’t worry!”

 

“you put me to shame,” he chuckled.  “ya goof.”

 

“See?  I’m not worrying.”  Your dance got more ridiculous, until you stopped and pointed both hands at him.  “Take it from me and Bob.  It’s gonna be alright.”

 

His pupils searched yours for a moment, then suddenly, he disappeared.  Usually this was instantaneous, but your soul seemed to enable you to process the instant in a way you normally couldn’t.  He appeared in front of you and pulled you into a hug, but looking past his shoulder you could see a tiny, faint wisp of cyan vapor left in the space he used to be.

 

“listen,” he said into your shoulder.  You blinked from staring over him and met his eyes as he pulled away.  “i know you’re doing amazing.  i don’t doubt anything about you, like...it’s insane you can do the shit you can do.  it’s incredible.  but some magic, it...it takes more.  and i worry.”

 

“If it takes more, I’ll do less.  I’ll be careful.”  You held his face with hands still warm from fire and gave him a quick kiss.  When you drew back, you jerked your head over his shoulder and said, “Now.  Can you do that again?”

 

He blinked.

 

“Just teleport.  Real quick.”

 

“uh.  ok?”  He let go of you and popped to a space just a foot away from where he was.  You saw the same residue, for less than a second.

 

“You leave something behind.”

 

“huh?”

 

“A little bit of blue.  Do it again.”

 

He blinked another foot.  Same result.

 

“Back when I teleported,” you mused, “it was like...like I grabbed something.  I couldn’t tell what it was, I thought it was just me wanting to see you, but it was more like a signal?  Or something?”

 

“what exactly are you seeing?”  To your relief, his concern was giving a bit of way to curiosity.

 

“Like a little puff of magic, just for a second after you jump.  It’s tiny.”

 

He thought for a moment.  “magic sometimes leaves a kinda exhaust behind, but i didn’t think...you shouldn’t be able to  _ see _ it.  it’s not usable.”

 

Your mind was moving almost too fast for you to follow, but you  _ could  _ follow, you could follow everything when you were like this.  “Do it again, and then again immediately after.  Like as fast as possible.  Short distances like you’ve been doing.”

 

He hesitated long enough you wondered if he would deny you, but then he nodded.  “tell me when.”

 

“Go for it.”

 

He disappeared, and it was like your soul knew what you wanted.  Things moved slower as you honed in on the bit of blue vapor.  You reached out with your hand, even when you realized it wasn’t about the physical, but about reaching out with your magic and...you couldn’t describe to yourself what it was like.  Breathing in the magic left behind?  Following a scent?  Or reading a map?  You didn’t have to understand what was happening before you were suddenly in a space a foot away.

 

You reeled, but not as drastically as that first time.  You were able to stay on your feet.  You swayed and put a hand to your head, and immediately Sans was there holding you up, looking over you frantically.

 

“shit, naya, shit, you…”

 

“I did it,” you breathed.  Your soul was just a bit dimmer.  You pumped a fist and muttered, “I  _ fucking did it _ .”

 

Sans was laughing, hard and nervous.  “i don’t get it.  you shouldn’t...it’s not supposed to be possible, it’s…”

 

“I’m following you,” you said.  You straightened, looking at your soul.  “That’s what it is.  I don’t think I could do go somewhere on my own, cuz I don’t know what’s  _ actually _ going on.”

 

“that’s...bonkers.”  He was staring at you in amazement.

 

“Let’s do it again.”

 

“are you crazy?  you said you’d be careful.”

 

“And I am.  Controlled environment, small bursts, and I’ve got a spotter.”

 

You met his stare evenly as he looked like he wanted to keep arguing.  He rolled his eyes when you didn’t waver, reaching into his pocket to hand you a baggie with a cookie inside.  “just eat this first, please?”

 

You did, feeling the magic reenergize you instantly like a sugar high.  Sans still didn’t look like he approved, but you’d struck the part of him that wanted to experiment.  You could see the spark in his eyes.

 

“Ok,” you said, brushing crumbs off your coat.  “Again, same as last time.  You can even make the distance smaller if you want.”

 

He nodded.  “just a couple inches then.”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

He blinked twice, and this time, you forced yourself not to reach with your hands.  You reached with your  _ soul _ , your magic.  You felt it lash away from you in a tendril and wrap around the residual magic, and you felt it whip you two inches to the left.  You gasped, but still, you stayed standing.

 

“fuck,” sans muttered.  “just can’t wrap my mind around it,  _ fuck _ .”

 

“Good boy!”  You were cackling and grinning at your soul.  “Look at you go!”

 

“you’re...are you  _ talking _ to it?”

 

“Maybe?  I don’t know, this is still all very weird to me,” you breathed, still laughing.

 

“glad you’re having fun.”

 

You whipped toward him.  Something in his expression changed at the sight of you.  “I can do fucking  _ magic _ , Sans!”

 

He breathed out, searching your eyes.  He gave you a tentative smile.  “yeah.  you fucking can.”

 

“Hey, hey.”  You grabbed his hands, eyes wide.  “Let’s do the other bit.”

 

He seemed almost trapped in your gaze, and a distant part of you recognized the focused golden light you were shining on his bones, a light that flickered with your eyes.  “other bit?”

 

“Blue magic.”

 

He winced, cyan light dimming.  “isn’t this enough for one day…?”

 

“I’m on a roll, Sans, don’t make me stop now.  Not yet.”

 

You were surprised to see a blush on his cheeks.  He tilted his head and studied you for a moment.  “you know your hair is doing a thing right now?”

 

You grabbed a clump of it and held it in front of you.  A few strands broke away and fell behind them, but the movement was strange, almost as if the hair was floating through water, or like it was charged with static.  You blinked.  “Huh.  Weird.”

 

A little bit of your enthusiasm seemed to have infected him.  He tightened his expression and said, “just one try, ok?”

 

You nodded eagerly.

 

“want me to show you first?”

 

“Yes please!”

 

He stepped back.  You’d felt this before, so you were somewhat prepared for the odd sensation of having an outside force envelop your soul.  You stared down at yourself as the yellow was shrouded in blue.

 

“good?”

 

“Peachy.”

 

“ok.”  His hand was out of his pocket, held carefully in front of him.  He kept his eyes on your face as he asked, “may i?”

 

You nodded, and he slowly raised his hand.  You felt your feet leave the ground gently, hovering just a hair above the snow.  You gave a little giggle of delight to look down and see yourself floating.  He only kept you suspended for a few seconds before bringing you back to the ground with just as much care.

 

Just like with Toriel, your first question was, “What are you thinking about?  When you do that?”

 

He froze.  The tension returned for a moment, and then he shook it off to say, “nothing helpful, probably.”

 

“I mean...where does your mind go?  Is there any intention behind it, or like…?”

 

He continued to look troubled.  “uh.  i just...reach out, i guess.”

 

You pursed your lips.  You’d done this once, but how?  It had been so fast, and you hadn’t understood what was going on at the time.  You’d just thrown Cody away.  You’d acted out of an instinct you didn’t know you had.  But now you were safe, and it was Sans, and you had no idea how to approach this.

 

You tried “reaching out.”  You envisioned yourself grabbing his center in a magical fist.  You pictured the darker blue wrapping around him.  No luck.

 

“I’ve  _ done  _ this.”

 

“i know.”

 

“Let me think.”

 

“take your time.”

 

You closed your eyes.  You went back to that moment, and for some reason it didn’t frighten you.  You remembered a flash of gold and a flash of blue.  It must have been magic, even if you didn’t recognize it.  Your magic.  Blue magic.

 

...Your magic.

 

You opened your eyes to your soul.  Carefully, you lifted a hand to touch it lightly with your fingertips.  The feeling was as startling as ever--ghost pressure tingling across your body--but you didn’t flinch away.  You concentrated like you did when you were finding someone’s color, focusing on the feeling and the sight of it all at once, and right away you noticed...something.

 

A stream of gold was leaving you.  Curling away from your soul, no bigger than a hair, and dissipating.  It originated from a specific place right in the center of the yellow heart.  You moved your fingers over it, still so light and gentle, and squinted as you tried to notice any differences in the glow.  Any difference in brightness, in color, and it wasn’t until you drew a finger directly over that spot and saw the stream of magic stop that you realized.

 

A tear.  Tiny and insignificant, but plain as anything.  There was a leak in your soul.

 

The realization didn’t alarm you.  You pressed your fingers a little harder and looked a little closer.  The tear was too small to study, but your enhanced vision could pick up the fact that the tear was brighter than the rest of your soul, just by a fraction.  You pulled your hand away, but you could still feel it, the little anomaly you hadn't noticed until now.  You summoned a small flame while watching your soul.  The stream of gold changed course to curl down your arm, toward the fire.  You raised the plume, and the stream grew thicker.

 

“what're you doing?” Sans asked.

 

“Just looking at something,” you muttered back, deep in concentration.

 

_ That’s my magic _ , you thought.   _ Only a little bit comes out at a time. _

 

The glow that swirled in your soul was being stoppered.  It was like coffee dripping through a filter.  Diluted.  Limited.

 

You wondered what would happen if you  _ ripped _ the filter, and let the grounds through.

 

All too fast for you to process, the stream turned into a flood, building in diameter until it was like a tentacle growing out from your chest.  You barely caught Sans’ face as it opened in shock, then you remembered what you were trying to do.  Blue magic.  Throwing him like you’d thrown Cody.  

 

But you didn’t see any blue as you suddenly, violently lifted him ten feet in the air.  You didn’t see any blue as you jerked him sporadically back down.  You didn’t see any blue as he sailed into a nearby snow drift, and it was only when you heard bone cracking that the golden force disappeared.

 

Your mind was struggling to be numb and horrified at the same time.  Your soul melted back inside you and you stumbled, hands held tense before you.  Everything was muffled, and white, and wrong, and you stared at the limp blue jacket and sweats as the slowness caught up to you.

 

“S...Sans…?”

 

You took a step forward.

 

You heard a groan.

 

“jesus christ…”  Laboriously, he propped himself up on his elbows.  He rubbed his head and gave you a wide-eyed look.  “so  _ that’s _ what it feels like.”

 

You sighed in relief and took another step toward him.  “H-ha, you’re o--”

 

A sick rush, then the world was suddenly sideways and you were even colder.  Black crept over your vision to cover the white, and you saw Sans’ terror as he appeared above you.

 

You heard him yell your name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sure she's fine


	64. I Lived Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she's not dead don't worry everything's fine! she's not dead. i know that's what i would say if she WAS dead but she's not. she's not. don't worry. she's not!
> 
> [(this one's my tumblr and i'm, aha, PRETTY funny on it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯)](https://capnhanbers.tumblr.com/)   
>  [(this one's my podcast and i'm, aha, PRETTY fucking stupid on it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯)](https://soundcloud.com/user-891528176)

The world was gray.

 

There was no texture or shadow.  Just gray.  Directly between black and white and as far from color as you could imagine.  You stood on something like floor and were surrounded by something like walls.  The silence was thick and absolute.

 

You wondered if you were dead.

 

You looked down at your hands to see they were still brown.  Your sleeves were yellow.  Your hair fell around your face, and it was black.  You could touch your face without feeling your skin, without feeling your breath.  Wait...were you breathing?

 

You heard a gasp.  You turned--the motion felt too fast, like there was no air to resist you.

 

There was a figure who looked broken and familiar.  He stared at you with one wide eye, one glowing pupil.  He stumbled over a robe that was too black.

 

You opened your mouth to say something, but with no breath, there was no sound.  He took another moment to stare at you with one hand over his chest and...was he injured?  What was wrong with his hands?

 

He signed something.

 

You vision blurred.  Suddenly you couldn’t feel the floor beneath you.  You started to breathe, but it sounded so far away, muffled and shallow.  You reached toward the figure and tried to speak again.  From far away you heard a croak.

 

He kept signing.  The same thing, over and over, and it wasn’t until your vision was nearly dark that you caught on.

 

**A-N-A-Y-A**

 

* * *

 

 

“...waking up, gotta get alphys.”

 

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll watch over her.”

 

Your eyelids were stuck and your head felt full of stuffing.  You croaked again, trying to turn your head and realizing your neck was as stiff as the rest of your body.  Light was creeping in through your closed eyes; you could hear gentle mechanical whirring nearby.  You were warm, even though you distinctly remembered being cold.

 

“Yoo-hoo, Anaya dear?”

 

You knew that voice.  It sounded closer and clearer than before, bringing you higher in awareness until you were finally able to crack your eyes open.  You still couldn’t move your head.

 

“Sa…”  Your throat was so dry, the word turned into a hiss.

 

“Oh, dear, I’d offer you water but I’m a bit incapacitated at the moment, darling.”  The voice synchronized with the sounds of machinery.

 

You could see fluorescent lights above you.  Your body seemed to wake up from the eyes down in a trickle, bringing you the smell of oil and chemicals; the taste of morning-mouth; a burning in your throat; pricks and squeezes in your immobile arms; the give of a mattress beneath you.

 

“Can you hear me, love?  Blink if you can hear me.”

 

You blinked.

 

A pleased hum, then he said, “No need to move, dear, keep resting.  Alphys is fixing you up.  Both of us, actually.”

 

You heard a scuttle, then your hand was in someone else’s and your vision was full of Sans.

 

“babe, babe can you hear me?”

 

“She’s with us.  No need to crowd the poor angel, Sans.”

 

His hands moved up to your face to cradle you, touching your forehead and cheeks and lips.  Your eyes were too squinted to see his expression, but he let out a harsh sigh that told you just how scared he was.

 

“He’s right.  Don’t crowd her.  We don’t know where her mind’s at right now.”

 

“Sa…?” you hissed again.

 

“yeah, i’m here, i’m here, it’s me.”  He held your foreheads together.  You let your eyes creak shut.  “fuck...thank god.  thank god.”

 

“S-sorry, but I have to look at her, Sans.”

 

You felt him tense, then reluctantly, he pulled away.  It took you another second to force your eyes back open and see Alphys taking his place.  She was leaning over you and toying with something above your head, frowning in concentration.  She didn’t look her usual anxious self--she was calm and focused.

 

“So it works,” she muttered.  “Good.  That’s something, at least.  Naya, can you still hear us?”

 

You groaned.

 

“Can you let out your soul for me?”

 

Your fingers twitched and your mouth gaped.  You tried to let it go like usual, when it would slip out happily as if it was excited to be free, but it wouldn’t come.  You could feel it, but it was heavy.  It sunk into your back and pressed against the mattress like a stone inside you.

 

“she can’t even speak, alphys, what’re you thinking?”  You felt Sans’ hands clasp yours again.

 

“I’m trying to see where she’s at cognizantly.  But it’s ok, let me just grab the scanner.”  You heard feet shuffle quickly away.

 

Your vision was still just a slit.  You blinked, and Sans was above you again.  There was something you had to say to him, desperately, but your memories were taking a bit longer to wake up with you.  What were you doing here, anyway?

 

Alphys returned quickly; Sans leaned back again.  She had a small, transparent screen in her hand.  You watched her hold it over you and slowly bring it down to hover over your chest.  She and Sans were at the bottom of your vision, peering into it with intent expressions.

 

“it’s still so dim,” Sans whispered.

 

“A lot better than it was before,” Alphys murmured, “and I’ll take that.  The patch is still there, but the color difference is far less drastic.  I think it’s closing over.”

 

“how long is that gonna take?”

 

“Who knows.”

 

As they were studying, you were working on opening your eyes wider, blinking over and over and working up their strength.

 

“Oh, my,” the mechanical voice breathed.

 

Sans and Alphys looked toward the voice, then at your face, and then they were right over you, peering into your eyes with shocked expressions.

 

“Oh, darling, they’re  _ gorgeous _ ,” you heard beside you.

 

“what does it mean?”

 

You coughed.  “Sans...I’m…”

 

“it’s ok, babe, it’s ok.  you’re ok.”  He was holding your face and whispering to you, but he was looking at Alphys.  “what does it mean?” he repeated.

 

You blinked against the sudden light she held in front of your eyes, wincing when she forced your lids open.  She shone the light between them rapidly.  “Don’t panic,” she murmured to him.  “Frisk has the same symptoms.  And haven’t her eyes been changing for the last few months?”

 

“yeah, slowly, not like…”  He trailed off and stared at you.  “not like this.”

 

“Naya?”  Alphys let go of your eyelids.  “Can you see?”

 

“Yes,” you managed.  “But…”

 

You blinked again.  You wondered if it was just the grogginess affecting your vision, but everything was starting to look...weird.  Almost like you were watching a 3D movie.

 

“Can you move?”

 

“of course she can’t--”

 

You gritted your teeth and tensed your shoulders.  With considerable effort, you tilted your chin down to get a clearer look of Sans and Alphys standing on either side of the bed.  Sans quickly cupped your cheek, whether to still you or help you you weren’t sure.  Alphys nodded in satisfaction, taking a few notes on a clipboard she had lying by your legs.  Your eyes moved sluggishly around the room to see a table of medical equipment and monitors by the wall opposite you.  The walls were almost entirely pegboard, with tools hanging by nails ranging from auto repair tools to stethoscopes.

 

“Where…?”

 

“My house.  My garage, actually,” Alphys answered.  Finally, a chagrined smile peeked through the professionalism.  “P-pardon the mess.”

 

You turned your head to the right.  Your arms had monitors attached, and an I.V. line fed up to a bag that was glowing with bright yellow liquid.  

 

“Just sodium chloride,” Alphys explained, following your vision and pushing up her glasses, “with an added touch from me.  I had to improvise with what I had.”

 

You turned to the left, and finally you saw the owner of the voice.  Mettaton was balanced on a work table nearby, flashing his signature, perfect smile, which momentarily distracted you from the fact that he didn’t have arms or legs.  His chest was open to reveal the ticking machinery within, and you could see a hot pink light shining out from his stomach.

 

“You’ll have to excuse me, darling, if I’d known we’d be having company I’d have dressed for the occasion.”  He tossed his hair and winked.

 

“...The fuck’s going on,” you rasped.

 

A moment of silence, then Sans and Alphys snorted.  Mettaton pouted as Sans’ voice descended into a relieved sigh, and his head fell down to rest against your hand.

 

“Well.  I was hoping you’d be excited to see me, but given the circumstances--”

 

“C’mon, Fart-a-ton.”  Alphys walked over, picked him up and tucked him unceremoniously under her arm.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Let’s give Naya a second to come to,” she said, ignoring his ineffective struggles.  She gave you and Sans a sympathetic look.  “I’ll be back to do some more checks after diva-sitting.  You got her, Sans?”

 

“yeah,” he said softly, not moving away from your hand.  “thanks, alph.”

 

“Don’t sweat it.”

 

They left, and all that was left was the quiet beep of monitors and the sound of fluid moving through a pump.  You felt him breathing against your fingers.  Still trying to piece together exactly what was happening, you turned back to the I.V.  It literally  _ glowed _ , all the way from the bag to your vein.  It felt warm going in.  How strange.

 

“Feel heavy,” you croaked.

 

“just rest.”

 

You plopped your head back into the pillow too fast.  Everything swam for a moment and you winced against the fuzziness.  Sans rose to hold your face again and watch you in concern until you were blinking yourself out of it.

 

“What happened?” you hissed.

 

He just stared at you for another moment before slowly sitting back.  As he hit the chair, he flinched and sucked in a short breath.  One hand reached around to his neck.  Only then did you notice the bandage around it.

 

Only then did it all rush back.

 

The leak in your soul.  The flood.  The sound of bone cracking as he hit the ground.

 

Oh god.  Oh  _ god _ .

 

You started hyperventilating.

 

“wh--”  His eyes darted to the monitor, to your racing heartbeat, and then he was back over you, holding your faces together and rocking slightly.  “hey, shh, don’t panic, don’t--”

 

“ _ Oh my god, oh god _ ,” you whimpered against him.  You wanted to push him away, you wanted to banish the horror crowding your mind and you didn’t want to have to look at him after you did  _ that  _ to him.  “I’m...s-sorry, oh god,  _ please, god… _ ”

 

“shh...i’m ok, naya, see?  i’m ok.”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry, I’m…”

 

“it was an accident, naya.  i  _ know _ it was.”

 

You choked on a sob; it made your throat feel like it was being torn apart.  You couldn’t stop seeing that column of magic.  You couldn't stop feeling it pour out of you.  You wished you hadn’t remembered it, the feeling of power, the feeling that in an instant, your magic would do whatever you wanted it to.   _ Anything _ you wanted.

 

“i promise i’m ok.  just a bruise.  i’m ok.  it’s ok, naya.  you’re ok.  you’re ok.”

 

Weakly, you reached up, pulling all the cords with you as you clung to his back.  He put his arms under you and held you up against him.  You shook and kept whispering “I’m sorry” like a mantra.  Soon he gave up trying to stop you.  He let you apologize, over and over again in a desperate chant, until you were crying wordlessly.  He rubbed your back soothingly.  He breathed into your hair.  He stayed.

 

* * *

 

You felt numb after that.  

 

You received the story once you were calm enough to hear it.  Sans had teleported you to the first person he thought of:  Alphys.  He knew her work; he knew she could help.  Immediately, they’d hooked you up to an I.V. infused with Alphys’ magic, an experiment she’d wanted to try for a long time as a combination of monster and human medicine.  You were her first subject, and a success.  Your color had come back faster than it could’ve with just food.  In total, you were only unconscious for a little over an hour.

 

As soon as you were stable, Sans had contacted Toriel.  She arrived shortly after you woke up and exhausted yourself from panic.  She burst into tears immediately upon seeing you, barely keeping herself from throwing her arms around you, and then she and Alphys stepped out so she could hear all the details.

 

Alphys scolded all three of you for not including her in your magic lessons.  She had years of research and expertise to offer, and made you promise that whenever your lessons started again, you’d go to her before pushing yourself too far.

 

_ If _ your lessons started again.

 

All the while, Sans sat with you, hands perpetually linked.  Every time someone appeared at the door, he stiffened and glared like an overprotective guard dog.

 

You were exhausted enough that first day that you were constantly drifting in and out of sleep.  Every time you woke up, Toriel was ready with a small meal.  Jello, soup, even ice cream at one point.  You’d eat, stare at the yellow I.V. bag, let Sans run his fingers lightly over your hand, and then fall back to sleep.

 

It didn’t take long for you to feel normal apart from the overwhelming tiredness, and every time Alphys used her special screen to check your soul, she said you were improving.  It wasn’t your body that was keeping you quiet.  It was your mind, and your memories, and the knowledge that you’d hurt Sans.  Whether or not it was accidental was irrelevant.  You’d hurt him.  You couldn’t stop thinking about it.

 

The next day, others started to visit.  Your soul was almost completely back to normal, and you were managing to stay awake longer.

 

The first person to stride in was Mettaton, with his newly reinstalled arms and legs.  He brought an enormous bouquet of yellow roses, saying they’d really “Make those eyes  _ pop _ , dear!”  He promised to get you season tickets to his tour to make up for the New Years concert you missed.  Throughout the conversation, he didn’t sit down, instead striking “casual” pose after pose as if to show off the limbs you’d missed when you first saw him.

 

Undyne started to come in with Alphys.  When she first saw you, she broke out in a grin and said, “Oh, DANG!  They look just like MINE!”  She was lighthearted in the way Sans and Alphys weren’t, talking about how she couldn’t wait until you were feeling well enough to hang out again.  You couldn’t find it in you to share her enthusiasm.

 

When Papyrus came with an enormous container of spaghetti, you saw the way his usually effortless grin tightened at the sight of you and his brother.  Sans hadn’t slept, and you were just as gaunt.  In true Papyrus fashion, he didn’t let on to the worry you somehow  _ knew _ was there.  He sat beside you, asked no questions, and told you all about how his classes were going.  He told you this spaghetti had a special ingredient, and if you could figure out what it was, he’d award you with the greatest prize of all: more spaghetti.

 

At the end of the second day, Alphys asked you to spend one last night on fluids before being able to go home.  You were willing.  You didn’t want to go back to anything normal, not when you felt like everything was different.

 

You’d been moved to a bedroom at some point, full of plushies and decorated floor to ceiling with anime posters.  In any other state of mind, you would’ve laughed at it.  Now you hardly noticed.  You just looked out the window, at the night sky and the still snowy earth.  Your vision was as strange as it had been when you first woke up, and gradual you’d realized that everything was clearer.  It was as if everything was just a fraction duller before, just a touch blurred, even though you’d thought yourself to have good vision your whole life.

 

As always, Sans was next to you, bathed in the golden light from the I.V. bag.  He sat in an armchair and held your hand.  He was looking at his phone blankly, and you were sure he was feeling just as numb as you were.  Since remembering what you’d done, you’d hardly said a word to him.  You didn’t know how.  You’d just been thinking.

 

“tori just said you’re not going back to work for a week.  at least.”

 

You closed your eyes.  “Ok.”

 

Like you, he hadn’t said anything more about the situation.  He’d just let you rest.  He’d been what you thought was strong.  He’d just held your hand and watched over you, but now you felt his hand shake.

 

“naya?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

His hand clenched.  You opened your eyes and turned to him.  His eye sockets were wide and his pupils were dim, focused on nothing.

 

“i thought you were dead.”

 

You stared at him, feeling emotion clawing at the cloudy wall you’d built up.

 

“when you fell.  you were pale.  and…”

 

You’d put this off for over twenty-four hours.  Slowly, you sat up.  He watched you, entire body trembling as you met his eyes and let the fear overwhelm you for a moment.  You let yourself remember the sight of him.

 

“I did, too.”

 

He brought your hand to his face and shook against it.

 

“And I thought I did it to you.”

 

He crawled into the bed with you silently.  Tears streamed from your eyes as you forced yourself to take slow, even breaths.  Still sitting up, you held each other and breathed in and out, in and out, until you lowered down to lie wrapped together.  You tucked your head under his chin and held his chest close, and he wove his fingers in your hair.  You kept breathing.  You felt his magic and his warmth and you let the image of him lying motionless in the snow fade away.  You imagined he was doing the same thing.

 

Neither of you fell asleep.  You held each other with the same tightness, the same desperation, as an hour passed.  The outside world was quiet with winter.  You knew you were sharing something you never wanted to share.  You knew things were different, and deeper.

 

“Sans?” you whispered at one point.

 

He held you tighter.

 

“What I did…it wasn’t blue magic, was it?”

 

He hesitated, then, “...no.  it wasn’t.”

 

“It was me.”

 

“i don’t know what it was.”

 

“I do.”

 

You both fell into silence a few moments longer.

 

“Why didn’t you want to show me your magic?”

 

His breathing didn’t change, but you could feel the buzz beneath his shirt intensify for a moment.  You waited patiently.

 

“because i’ve used it to hurt people.”

 

The darkness in his voice caught you off guard.  You kept holding on, and continued, “Like Cody?”

 

“not just him.”  He stayed tense against you; you couldn’t see his face.  “the way you’re feeling?”

 

You pressed harder into him.

 

“i get it.  i’ve felt it.  i…i still feel it.  but the difference is…”  His fingers dug into your scalp, and you felt his jaw tense against the top of your head.  “...no accidents on my part.”

 

You didn’t say anything else.  You didn’t want any more pain after he’d felt so much throughout this whole experience.  You didn’t want to do anything but breathe against him and remind each other you were both ok.  But he was pushing himself.

 

“there’s so much i have to tell you,” he whispered.  “but i  _ can’t _ , i can’t, i…”

 

“It’s ok.  It’s ok, Sans.”

 

“i can’t.  i’m sorry.  because if i tell you, i’ll lose you.”

 

You finally pulled back to look at him.  He looked as scared as he did when you passed out.  He was searching your eyes for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet.  You realized this was always under the surface, always hiding beneath the grin, this  _ fear _ .

 

“I’m not leaving,” you said, knowing with every inch of you that it was true.  “I couldn’t.”

 

“but you don’t know.  there’s so, so much, naya.”

 

“There’s nothing you could say.  I’m not leaving.”

 

He stared at you.  You knew he didn’t believe you, but that didn’t matter.  When the time came, when he finally talked, when you understood, you’d prove it to him.

 

“i can’t tell you,” he hissed, pupils blurring, “because i  _ can’t lose you _ .”

 

You scooted higher so that he could curl into you.  You wrapped your arms and your legs around him and were reminded of something that was often hard to notice; that he was smaller than you.  He fit in the bend of you and let himself shudder.  The memory of throwing him into the snow was drifting further and further away, replaced by the feeling of holding him together.

 

You’d get through this.  You knew you would.  Because you didn’t have to know everything to know how much you loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wHAT have i dONe to her EYes?????? oh GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! some ROSemary'S BABY SHIt!!!!!!


	65. Tummy Wummy Ache :c

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally, i have the chapters mapped out on what i GUESS is gonna happen but they always like "naw naw naw naw naw naw lemme tell you where this ol' canoe is headed capn my capn" like I am NOT in control anymore
> 
>  
> 
> [m'tumblr](capnhanbers.tumblr.com)  
> [m'podcast](https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/rotten-tomato-soup/id1308119286?mt=2)

You didn’t recognize yourself.

 

Your eyes had been shining with flecks of gold for months now, but it was always just that.  A glimmer. A hint of something stranger. Now the brown had been devoured entirely by the rings of yellow staring back at you.  Unmistakable, and no longer human, you felt like you were looking at a parody of yourself.

 

_ God _ they were noticeable.

 

You heard a knock at the door.  “Anaya? Are you alright?”

 

You jumped, tearing your eyes away from themselves to reply, “Yeah, sorry, just...just getting out of the shower.”

 

“Of course, my friend, take your time!”

 

You sighed.  You reached for a towel to squeeze the bulk of water out of your hair, watching the mirror all the while.  It was surreal enough to make you uncomfortable, but you didn’t look away. You had to get used to the sight.  It wasn’t going away any time soon.

 

That morning, Alphys had discharged you with the condition that she would be included in future studies.  You didn’t tell her that the idea of “future studies” was still up in the air for you. You’d driven home with Toriel--opting out of a shortcut for the time being--and come home to see Frisk and Flowey for the first time.

 

They didn’t say why they hadn’t come to visit.  They didn’t even ask questions at first. For a brief moment when you arrived, you’d caught a glimpse at them from the window, and all they did was stare with hard red eyes.

 

Then they were greeting you inside.  It was the Frisk you were used to, albeit with more concern than enthusiasm.  They had a blanket and a warm drink for you, a soft smile and a softer hug, a softness which was quickly tainted by the unsympathetic voice from the living room.

 

“Geez, Frisk, enough with the pity party, it’s not like she  _ died _ .”

 

Frisk had stepped away from you to frown at Flowey, and his face had gone slack at the sight of you.

 

“...They’re yellow,” he’d said.

 

“Yes, I am sure she is more than aware.”  Toriel and Sans had come in behind you. She’d given Flowey a tired, chastising sigh.  “Pointing them out is of no help to anyone.”

 

“But _ look _ at her, she’s--”

 

“buddy.”

 

Flowey cut himself off when Sans, taking your hand from behind, fixed him with a smile.

 

“read the room.  for once.”

 

You’d excused yourself to take a shower, take a breath, and now you were staring at your reflection.  Wet hair. New pajamas, courtesy of Toriel. Eyes that were gaunt and heavy and...yellow.

 

You walked out to the living room and the silence, with everyone sitting still as if to show they definitely weren’t talking about you.  Sans gave you a tense smile right away, an empty spot next to him on the couch, while Toriel couldn’t quite mask the concern she’d been wearing the past two days.  Frisk had Flowey in their lap. Their head was down toward him, eyes obstructed by their bangs, and Flowey...he met your eyes. He was the only one who wasn’t making any effort to look normal for your sake.

 

“Seriously.  What’s wrong with you?”

 

The tenuous discomfort broke, as Toriel and Sans scowled at him.  Toriel hissed, “Flowey.”

 

“I’m not shutting up for this,” he snapped back.  “Nobody ever tells me  _ anything! _ ”

 

You saw Frisk’s fingers squeeze the pot.

 

“and you know why.”  Sans’ voice was dangerously quiet, and you watched his pupils disappear as he bore into Flowey.

 

Toriel stood, her body shielding you as you kept standing awkwardly in the hall.  “Please,” she said, “can we refrain from this? For Anaya’s sake? She needs rest.”

 

“ _ I _ need  _ answers! _ ”  Flowey’s face took on the scary grimace you’d seen on him when he was toying with you, but there was no hint of playfulness.  He was truly angry. “All you  _ idiots _ do is whisper and act like I can’t hear you, you only use magic when I’m not around, you--”

 

“you don’t get…”  Sans stood, and the animosity in the air crackled.  “...to be part of this. we don’t  _ want  _ you to be part of this.”

 

You blinked.  Your vision, still clearer than it had ever been, flicked between Sans and Flowey.

 

“You don’t know anything about me, trash-bag!”  Flowey’s petals were curling and his face was twisting.

 

“i know enough.”

 

Frisk’s hands were starting to shake, and no one else was noticing.

 

Flowey took on a cruel grin as he hissed, “And  _ I _ know enough about you, don’t I?  Does  _ she? _ ”

 

Sans’ eye ignited with cyan and his jaw clenched with an audible grind.  “little  _ shit _ \--”

 

“Sans, stop it.”

 

Everyone jumped when you spoke for the first time.  Your reaction was coming of its own accord, quicker than you could track it.

 

Sans’ eye faded in confusion.  “...me?”

 

“Yes.  You. Stop it.”  You gestured toward Flowey, who was glaring at you uncertainly.  “He’s just a little kid.”

 

Frisk’s head jerked up.

 

Sans and Toriel stared at you as Flowey’s face froze.  Your mind caught up with what your voice was saying, and you put a hand to your head.  You met Frisk’s eyes, then Sans’. He looked perplexed.

 

“...what are you talking about?” he said.

 

“Anaya…?” Toriel added, offering an arm as if to hold you steady.

 

“...I mean…”  You blinked a few times, trying to understand what you meant by that.  You looked at Flowey. He was completely stiff, stuck in that ugly grimace, but there was no emotion behind it anymore.  There wasn’t  _ anything _ .  He was just staring.  “I...I don’t know...what I’m…”

 

Sans came to your side to hold one shoulder, as Toriel put a paw on the other.  They shared a quick glance before shining their concern on you. They focused so much on your eyes.

 

“You...you must still be exhausted,” Toriel said carefully.  “I am sorry. We are all still processing things, we should not have lost our composures.”

 

Sans deflated a bit under a pointed glare from Toriel.  “yeah,” he muttered, leaning in closer to you. “sorry.”

 

“I will make us some lunch.  Sans, will you be staying with us for the night?”

 

“if that’s ok.”

 

She gave him a longer look and added, “Perhaps more than just the night?  If Anaya would like that.”

 

Sans looked at you.  You slowly put your hand over his and nodded.

 

Toriel gave you a warm smile, a last concerned glanced toward Sans, and then stepped away to the kitchen.  You glanced past her as she went to see that Frisk and Flowey were already gone.

 

You ate a lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup in near silence.  Still, Frisk didn’t emerge. You could look down the hall and see that their door was closed, but you heard nothing.  At one point, Toriel quietly ducked into their room with a sandwich, but said nothing about what they were doing.

 

You wandered back to your room as Toriel did dishes, Sans trailing after you.  Pickles was on the windowsill. He looked at you casually as you entered, blinked, and turned back to the window as if there was nothing interesting at all about having you back after two days of being gone.  You went to pet him with an appreciative smile. It was nice to have  _ one _ being in your life who wasn’t worried.

 

Sans closed the door softly behind you.  You kept petting Pickles, staring out with him at the mountain.  The snow hadn’t melted, and the sky was clear and blue. It almost hurt your eyes.

 

“hey.”

 

You didn’t turn.

 

“look i’m...i’m sorry i lost my temper,” he said.  A pause, then, “but what did you mean?”

 

“About Flowey?”

 

“yeah.”

 

You scratched Pickles ears; he leaned into you happily.  “I honestly don’t know. I was just...I’m probably just tired.  Still. Just saying random stuff.”

 

You heard him step closer, and Pickles glanced at him as he joined you by the window.

 

“naya, you know he’s not normal, right?”

 

You kept studying the mountain.  You could pick out so much detail, even from this distance.  You could almost count the trees.

 

“he’s wrong.  he’s...fuck, i’ll just say it, he’s evil.  he was asking all these questions about you, and i’m not ok with it.  i don’t trust him.”

 

“I know.  You’ve told me.”

 

“ok, so--”

 

“I’m serious, Sans, I don’t know why I said that.”  You rubbed the back of your neck, closing your eyes and sighing, “And my mind isn’t exactly in full working order right now.”

 

His face fell.  He put his hand over the one you still had on Pickles, leaning his shoulder into you.  “sorry. we’re not helping, are we?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“look, you’ve got this time off.  let’s just use it to... _ not _ talk.  ok?”

 

You turned to him.  You looked at him in the full light of day, and picked out the tiny details and textures in the bone and the miniscule imperfections you couldn’t usually see, and…

 

You wanted to ask the same questions Flowey had.

 

What  _ was _ wrong with you?

 

“Yeah,” you said, “that sounds good.”

 

You went back into the living room.  You didn’t see Frisk and Flowey for the rest of the afternoon as Toriel fed you, Sans looked after you, and you spent a few hours avoiding any difficult subjects of conversation.  You and Sans watched mindless TV as he tried not to appear tense. Toriel flitted from spending time with you in the living room and disappearing toward the bedrooms. You wondered if she was checking in on Frisk, who hadn’t made a sound.

 

Your mind regurgitated your defense of Flowey over and over.  You processed the look on his and Frisk’s faces over and over.  You still didn’t understand, and you just didn’t have the energy to try.  All you could do was stay on the couch with Sans, watching Food Network and realizing that the individual pixels on the TV screen were distracting.

 

Frisk still hadn’t emerged by the time night fell.  Sans woke you from a half-sleep around eight, ready with a glass of water.

 

“hey,” he said softly.

 

“Hey,” you murmured back.  At some point you’d laid your head down in his lap--you twisted to face him.  You noticed the slight change in expression when you opened your eyes and looked up at him, like he wasn’t used to it either.

 

“tori’s just out getting dinner.  she thinks it’s a good night for burgers.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

He smiled.  Brushing back some of your hair, he said, “i just have to pop home and grab some stuff.  tell paps where i’ll be.”

 

“Ok.”

 

“you’ll be good?”

 

“I won’t burn the house down.”

 

He stared at you.

 

“Too soon?”

 

He relented enough to chuckle, looking more relieved than anything as he bent down to kiss your forehead.  He made sure you were sat up and comfortable before suddenly disappearing, leaving that wisp of magic in his wake.  You could detect it without even trying, you realized.

 

You sat back for a moment, eyes closed, and took in the silence.  You were glad to have people taking care of you--you needed it right now--but it felt like you hadn’t had a moment alone for weeks.  Just last year, you’d been intimately familiar with isolation. Now it felt strange. You guessed that was a blessing.

 

You heard a knock.

 

You opened your eyes to see Frisk standing in the hall.  They were expressionless, fist on the wall and eyes on you.  After a moment, you patted the couch next to you, and they sat willingly.

 

“Hey man,” you said, leaning your head back.  “How’re you feeling?”

 

They kept sitting still, hands in their lap and hair falling over their face.

 

“I’m sorry everybody’s, like...freaking out right now.”  You rolled your head to face them. “I kinda goobered stuff up, huh?”

 

They remained still.

 

You kept watching them, then tentatively reached over to put a hand on their knee.  “I know you get upset. When people talk to him like that.”

 

Finally, they glanced at you, eyes just a sliver of red.

 

“I know he’s your best friend.  And like...I don’t know the  _ history _ , or whatever, but--”

 

**You can’t say that again.**

 

You blinked, wondering if you’d missed a word.  “Uh, Frisk?”

 

They suddenly turned to you directly, eyes intent.   **Not in front of Mom and Sans.  I promised.**

 

“Frisk, what are you talking about?  What--”

 

**How did you know?  How did you know about him?**

 

At first you thought it was a trick of your new vision, but as they spoke, their eyes were starting to glow.  You instinctively leaned away from them. “Frisk, I don’t know what you’re saying, just...slow down. Talk me through it, what’s--”

 

**He only came with me after I promised.  I had to promise I wouldn’t tell. He doesn’t want them to know.  I think he hates himself.**

 

It was taking all of your focus to interpret the rapidfire signing.  Your heart was starting to race.

 

**I haven’t told anyone.  I want to. I want to. But I promised him, and if they know about him, they’ll know about** **_them_ ** **, and I’m trying.**

 

They crawled across the couch as you kept flinching back, getting as close as you’d let them and nearly crying.  

 

**I’m trying so hard Naya I’m so tired please don’t upset them Naya I know Sans is coming back I had to tell you he couldn’t see me he can’t know he can’t know he can’t know please Naya please please please please--**

 

“Stop,” you whispered, those red eyes just inches away from your own.  “Stop. What’s going on, Frisk?”

 

**I need your help.** Their hands were shaking.   **And I’m so close.  We need your help, Naya, and you** **_can’t tell Sans_ ** **, please, promise me, please, please.**

 

“Help you?  What...why can’t I tell Sans, I--”

 

**Because I don’t want to die.**

 

You stared at them, motionless, as a calm smile suddenly spread across their face, juxtaposed by the tears now rolling down their cheeks.

 

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” their voice croaked.

 

You felt your palms start to heat up as an alarm went off in your chest.

 

Frisk’s hands jerked violently as they reached up to cradle their own face.  They chuckled.

 

“If he tries anything, I’ll just kill him again.”

 

Their hands continued to jerk until, suddenly, they screamed.  At the same moment, your hands, engulfed in fire, lashed out to push them off you.  Time froze for a breath as their eyes met yours and everyth

 

**< L  O  A  D  >**

 

“Hey man,” you said, leaning your head back.  “How’re you feeling?”

 

They’d just sat down, but immediately they stood up with their hands clasped over their mouth.  They retched, bending double, then they sprinted toward the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind them before you could get a word in.

 

“F-Frisk?!” you called in alarm.  You followed them, trying the handle to realize it was locked.  “Frisk, are you ok in there? Frisk?”

 

You heard the sounds of vomiting.  You pounded the door, still trying the handle, until you heard them panting through it.  Your phone buzzed, and Frisk knocked on the wall. You checked the message.

 

***Just felt sick out of nowhere, sorry, bad cheese maybe??? idk sorry i’m ok tho**

 

You let out a sigh of relief.  “Ok, got it,” you called through the door, “just...I’ll be right out here, ok?  And Tori should be back soon. I’ll tell her to get some ginger ale or something.  Sound good?” 

 

A knock.

 

“Hang in there, dude.”

 

***Thx Naya don’t worry bout me <3**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surefire trick for a tummy ache: goldfish crackers and ginger beer. Bunderberg's the best, but if you can find a brand with a lil lemonade in it that's real good too!! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me about the fic on tumblr @capnhanbers, or stalk me on my main blog @mod2amaryllis


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